


How To Train Your Shiro

by balter



Series: HTTYS [1]
Category: Tokyo Ghoul, Tokyo Ghoul: Re - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Established Relationship, Frottage, M/M, Multi, Oral Sex, Other, Praise Kink, Riding, Rimming, Sloppy Makeouts, Threesome, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2016-01-25
Packaged: 2018-03-02 11:19:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 36,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2810330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/balter/pseuds/balter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kaneki and Hide are That Couple. Together since ever, stupidly in love, full of inside jokes and the ability to hold conversations with their eyeballs.</p><p>Yeah, That Couple. But the arrival of a certain white-haired ghoul stands to alter their dynamic entirely.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Kisses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter: private couple time is interrupted. hide has an idea.
> 
> Timeline: december of '14. december 20th, to be specific.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All you need to know going into this is that:
> 
> 1\. It takes place during the same time period as Tokyo Ghoul: Re, BUT none of that Aogiri/Anteiku tragedy ever happened.
> 
> 2\. Kaneki and Hide have been dating since high school because they are l o s e r s
> 
> 3\. Shironeki's personality is going to be a little different from the manga. It actually does make sense.

Furnace hums through the apartment, keeping everything at a toasty 22°. It’s raining hard (has been for days now), windows and balcony doors slicked down, gusts of wind throwing droplets against the building in violent fits. There’s a movie playing, some classic Christmas flick or another. Two empty mugs sitting on the coffee table, one of them still bearing the aftertaste of eggnog and holiday spices.

Kaneki is distracted. The warm coffee settled in his stomach has made him at once drowsy and listless, his hands keep shifting. He knows that there is a movie playing, but can’t bring himself to focus on it. His boyfriend is sitting with him on the futon, pressed comfortably against his side, an arm slung over his shoulders—he knows this, too. Still, the half-ghoul’s mind is drifting, his hands shifting without aim as his eyes slowly close.

“Hey, Kaneki?” Hide speaks up now, his mouth close to Kaneki’s ear, voice cracking with strain. “Could you… maybe… listendoyourealizethatyouhavebeenstrokingmythighforthepasttenminutesitis _distracting._ ”

Kaneki blinks, turns his head to look over at his boyfriend. Their noses bump. “Say that again?”

“Listen, do you realize that you have been stroking my thigh for the past ten minutes,” Hide repeats, this time more slowly. “It is _distracting._ ”

“What, this?”

Kaneki runs his hand from where it’s resting on Hide’s knee up the inside of his leg, stopping just before his fingers can brush against the bulge in Hide’s pants. Hm. So it really had been distracting.

“ _Ka~ne~ki._ ” Hide sounds as though he’s singing and biting out Kaneki’s name at the same time. He pulls the ghoul’s hand off his thigh and places it back on his own. “Quit it.”

Kaneki lifts his eyebrows in surprise. Generally, Hide is one to crave physical contact. Far more than Kaneki does, anyway.

“Why?” he asks.

Hide’s flustered expression gives way to something more playful. He flashes a grin across to his partner, honey brown eyes dancing.

“Because then I’ll kiss you.”

“Oh dear,” Kaneki replies dryly. His hand moves back to Hide’s thigh, slides up. “I suppose I’ll just…” He scoots closer, shifting his weight. “Have to provoke you.” He swings himself around until he’s straddling Hide’s lap, knees trapping his legs while his hands settle on the inside of his thighs. He smirks, meeting Hide’s playfulness with a bit of his own. “How awful of me.”

“How awful,” Hide agrees, and pulls Kaneki down to kiss him.

Lips open immediately, tongues entwining as they curl fists in each other’s hair. Hide moans, somehow, always, sounding _amazed._ It’s a little embarrassing, Kaneki thinks, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t adore the praise. He can never get enough of it, he would be content to drag these little sounds of awe straight into his own mouth for years to come.

From the looks of things, that was exactly what was going to happen.

Hide’s hands move away from Kaneki’s hair, sliding down his back to grip at his ass, pull him forward. He’s demanding more, and Kaneki will absolutely give it to him. He turns Hide so he isn’t up against the back of the futon, pushing him down on the cushions. Hide resists for a moment so Kaneki stops, watching appreciatively as his grinning boyfriend pulls his loose T-shirt off over his head, tosses it somewhere on the floor.

More distractions. Kaneki is alright with that. His fingers trace over Hide’s stomach and chest, where soft rolls of fat are becoming toned from his work at the CCG. It won’t be much longer before he’s a proper investigator, his superiors are claiming. Kaneki tries not to think about what that implies, just focuses on the heat of Hide’s skin and how soft it is, how delicious he smells.

Maybe he shouldn’t mention that part.

“Oi, Kaneki.”

The ghoul twitches back in surprise as his boyfriend reaches up to tweak at his nose. Hide grins unabashedly, his eyes dancing at the fun of it all. Kaneki is distantly aware of the Christmas film playing in the back, glances to the side as the puppets start singing again. Hide huffs lightly and fumbles for the remote, turns the set off before flopping down on the cushions again and smirking up at his boyfriend.

“While I appreciate your admiration of my not-at-all impressive abs, I think there’s some making out we need to get back t— _oooooh fuck._ ”

Hide’s head slams against the futon as his back arches. Kaneki settles his hands on either side of Hide’s hips and repeats his action, grinding down hard. Just the way Hide likes it. His boyfriend turns an almost accusing stare up at Kaneki, honey brown already darkening.

“H-hey, that’s not ki—kis _siiiinnngggg holy shit._ ”

Hide swears a lot when he’s aroused. Do him just right, and that’s all he can do. Kaneki finds it endearing. Hide’s hands flutter around, lost until they anchor themselves on Kaneki’s hips. Kaneki keeps rocking, grinding his hips down toward Hide’s until the other man’s skin is colored with blush from his cheeks down to his chest, mouth hanging open as he gasps out curses. Kaneki is well aware of his own arousal by now, and stops grinding in favor of giving Hide was he originally asked (“threatened”) for: kisses.

Not exactly in the way he asked _for_ them, however. Kaneki’s lips press up against the bare edges of Hide’s hipbones, trailing kisses up his stomach and ribs and dwelling over his chest to suck at each nipple, rolling his tongue around until they become stiff.

Hide’s skin is hot, flushed, tantalizing. As Kaneki moves to suck at his collarbone, leaves open-mouthed kisses along Hide’s throat, the human whines. The neck is a sensitive place on anyone and for them, it’s a play of trust. Hide leans into the touch of Kaneki’s lips, breath shuddering, and Kaneki sucks, sinking his teeth into the tender flesh and pulling back only when he’s certain he’s left a mark, placing gentle kisses over it. He repeats the action until there’s a crescent of bruising red marks around the base of Hide’s neck and a few left higher up.

He pulls back in surprise as his partner begins to laugh breathlessly. Hide’s eyes are closed, a dazedly pleased smile across his face.

“G-guess ‘m gonna be wearing turtlenecks to work this week,” he remarks, eyebrows quirking in amusement.

Kaneki smiles back down at him, though he knows it can’t be seen. He leans down again, kissing under the curve of Hide’s jaw. “Guess so.”

“Mmmm.” Hide’s thumbs roll circles into the skin over Kaneki’s hips. It’s soothing. “Good. Like it when that happens.”

Kaneki laughs quietly, shaking his head. “You’re so strange, Hide.”

“You love me,” Hide replies cockily.

Kaneki is pushed back by the shoulders, and this time Hide’s eyes are open, staring straight up into his partner’s. His pupils are blown from the force of his arousal, yet his expression is completely sincere. Kaneki doesn’t know how he does it.

“You really do.”

Kaneki only hums and leans over to kiss Hide on the lips, finally giving his partner the chance to reciprocate. Hide groans in the back of his throat; the wait must have been harder than he’d let on. Kaneki parts his lips willingly and Hide’s tongue thrusts in, running along the edges of Kaneki’s teeth, the roof of his mouth, pushing at his own tongue. It’s another play of trust for them, and they have so many by now there’s hardly a second thought.

Kaneki moans back into Hide’s mouth, coaxing him to do more, and Hide responds with fervor, practically fucking his tongue into Kaneki’s mouth, moving his lips for better holds, better angle. Kaneki eases under his control, because it’s nice, sometimes, to just let Hide do what he wants to. He had been teasing him for all that time, after all.

Hide reaches down to pull at Kaneki’s length through his pants, still kissing him. Kaneki sucks in a breath, toes curling, moves his hands to mirror the action and—

“What are you doing?”

The sound of another voice— _his own voice_ —is so deeply startling to Kaneki that he flinches back from his partner with a squawk and falls right off the futon, slamming the back of his head against the edge of the coffee table. He scowls at the dent left in the wood, the two mugs spinning nervously on their round bases.

“Hey, man,” Hide says, going for casual but just coming out as somewhat strangled. “Thought you were in the shower?”

“I finished,” comes the blunt reply.

“Unlike us,” Hide mutters, and his boyfriend’s face twists awkwardly.

Their interrupter is… a curious story. The white-haired copy of Kaneki (Shiro) had shown up out of nowhere one day, fought and beat Kaneki close to death, and then proceeded to follow him and Hide home. It turned out that he had no place of his own to return to, and somehow Hide managed to convince Kaneki to let him stay with them.

The ghoul has a disturbing past, that much they understand. Somehow he was created from a piece of Kaneki’s kagune. None of them understand that. Science is strange.

Shiro has been staying with Kaneki and Hide for over a month now, and it’s gotten... frustrating, at times. With Shiro around, Hide and Kaneki no longer have free reign of their own apartment. No more loud sex (in fact, no sex at all since he’s come along), making out is a rare occurrence, and Hide regularly mourns the fact that he can’t wander around the apartment naked anymore. Not with Shiro sleeping on the futon.

The futon that Hide is currently lying shirtless on. And from the looks of the things, Shiro is also shirtless. Hopefully not _pants-less_ as well. He shakes his head, droplets flying loose from snowy locks. Hide sees Kaneki frown at just how much more built (better) the other ghoul is, and his brow creases in a mood Kaneki can’t identify. The human turns a smile up at Shiro.

“So. You planning to put a shirt on anytime soon?”

Shiro gives him a pointed look. “You’re not wearing one.”

“That. Is true. Kaneki, could you toss me my shirt?”

Kaneki nods and tosses the article of clothing in Hide’s direction, standing as he does so. Hide catches the shirt clumsily, turns it right side out again and fumbles about to make certain he doesn’t put it on backwards. He still does, of course.

Shiro towels at his hair, apparently lacking anything better to do with his time. Now that Kaneki is standing, he can see that the other ghoul is wearing a loose pair of boxers. Hide’s. That leaves a bitter taste in Kaneki’s mouth (jealousy), but at least he’s wearing something.

“So what were you doing?” Shiro asks again, glancing between the two boyfriends. A single droplet runs down his chest, over his abs. Distracting. “Both of your heart rates are elevated, your breathing is short, and Nagachika’s face is red.” The ghoul’s eyebrow lift curiously. “Some kind of exercise?” Eyes narrow, one of those vaguely hostile expressions Kaneki still can’t figure out. “Or torture?”

“Pfff, no,” Hide chuckles. He’s finally got his shirt on the right way and now rolls up to his feet, bouncing slightly. He shrug, gesturing between himself and Kaneki. “We were kissing.”

“Kissing,” Shiro repeats. Frowns. “Doesn’t look very pleasant.” He gestures to his neck in order to indicate Hide’s own. “Is Kaneki trying to eat you?”

“Personally, I’d prefer that he’d eat me out, but that’s another story,” Hide says lightly. Kaneki chokes on air, and his boyfriend pats him on the back like he _hadn’t_ just said that to his irritatingly superior replica. “Nah, he’s not trying to eat me. It’s just kissing. Something you do for pleasure.”

Shiro frowns again, doubtful. “Certainly doesn’t seem that way.”

“Hey, don’t knock it ‘til you’ve tried it.”

At Shiro’s squint, Kaneki tries to explain. “He means that you shouldn’t judge something before you’ve tried it yourself.”

“Then do it to me.”

Kaneki blanches. “Hm?”

Shiro’s expression is entirely serious. “Kiss me,” he says bluntly.

Hide looks between the two ghouls, his eyebrows slowly scaling upwards as his lips purse in surprise. “Uhhhhh,” he says with eloquence. “Just… give us a second, Shiro-san.”

He steps closer to Kaneki, lifting his eyebrows at his partner in question. Kaneki just stares back in bewilderment.

“What is the issue?” Shiro demands. He frowns (again) as he leans over the back of the futon, setting his forearms atop the furniture.

“Well, for some people kissing is just… a casual thing,” Kaneki tells him, gesturing awkwardly as he attempts to convey the sheer _volume_ of what the other ghoul has just asked for. “But with Hide and I, it’s personal, so…”

“We only kiss because we’re close to each other,” Hide clarifies.

“I see.” Shiro vaults over the futon with ease, takes two more steps until he is bare centimeters away from Hide’s face. “Like this?”

Hide’s throat works as he blinks down at the ghoul. His cheeks are beginning to color again, and he laughs. Comes out as more of a giggle, however. Kaneki frowns.

“N-not exactly,” Hide squeaks. He straightens up even though he is already taller than Shiro. “Uh. I meant close as in, um, close _emotionally._ ”

Shiro’s brow furrows. “I don’t understand.”

“Hide and I have known each other for a long time,” Kaneki elaborates, stepping in to pull Hide away from the other ghoul. Shiro almost looks disappointed by the sudden lack of presence. “And we love each other, like _that._ So we’re close. That’s why we kiss, it’s a sign of… intimacy. Between the two of us.”

Shiro’s brow is still furrowed. He looks between Hide and Kaneki for a few moments before looking down at the floor, cracking his knuckles as he thinks.

“I do not think that I have existed long enough to achieve _intimacy,_ ” he says eventually. He’s picking out his words with unusual care, abandoning his typical bluntness. “But I would think that out of anyone else I have encountered, you two are the only ones I am somewhat… close to.”

“Oh,” Hide says softly. Kaneki can only stammer the ghoul’s name in quiet shock.

The boyfriends look at each other again. Hide reaches over to Kaneki, loops his fingers around his wrist in a gentle hold. His gaze is serious, warm.

“What do you say, Kaneki?” he asks. “I mean. I know we’ve both been thinking about it.”

Of course he’s known. He’s _Hide._ Still, Kaneki feels nervous at the thought. Dirty? He doesn’t know. The half-ghoul gestures between himself and his partner, and the ghoul waiting silently off to the side.

“But… three?” he questions, his anxiousness bleeding through his tones. “Isn’t that… depraved?”

Hide bites his lip, but ends up laughing anyway. And just like that Kaneki is at ease. Hide flashes him a playful grin, eyes crinkling. “Considering some of the shit we get up to, Kaneki, that is a really funny thing for you to be saying.”

“Oh, shut up,” Kaneki mutters, but a slight laugh escapes anyway.

“There’s no harm in trying,” Hide points out. His thumb gently massages the underside of Kaneki’s wrist. “But only if you want to.”

Kaneki looks at Shiro. Looks at Hide. Closes his eyes and releases a long, slow breath. When he opens his eyes again, Hide is still looking at him expectantly, waiting for his partner’s answer. Kaneki doesn’t know what he’s supposed to say, words have never been his greatest skill, so he just nods, because for Hide that will be enough.

His boyfriend smiles warmly, kisses his cheek, and turns the smile to Shiro next.

“Looks like we’re gonna be kissing you!” he says cheerfully.

Shiro seems interested but not terribly enthused. Hide is looking thoughtfully between the three of them, and Kaneki knows that he’s figuring out how they’re supposed to go about this. He decides to leave his partner to it; Hide generally knows what he’s doing when it comes to anything involving the management of other people. Though “people” may not be an appropriate term for a human, a half-ghoul, and a ghoul grown from said half-ghoul’s kagune.

“Futon,” Hide decides, nudging both of the ghouls toward it. “Kaneki, you show him how it’s done. I figure it’ll be best if a ghoul’s first kiss is with another ghoul. In case of any startled biting action.”

“What about you?” Shiro questions. He refuses to sit on the futon just yet. Kaneki is already waiting.

“I’ll be sitting right behind you,” Hide answers. “It’s your first time doing anything like this, so we gotta take care of you, right? It’s very convenient that you’re not wearing a shirt, by the way.”

“Then why are you wearing shirts?” Shiro asks. He looks between the couple, a slight frown already creasing his features.

Hide smiles reassuringly, placing a light hand on the ghoul’s shoulder. He regards it for a moment before deciding to leave it be. Not something he would’ve done during his first days here.

“We’ll get there,” Hide assures Shiro.

His smiles turns playful now, and Kaneki can already see the beginnings of that other type of playfulness, one that’s promised long nights in the past. He really is pleased with this idea. Hide pushes lightly at Shiro’s chest.

“Now sit down, face Kaneki. It’s about time you got kissed.”

Shiro sits, almost warily. Hide takes his place behind him, places his hand back on the ghoul’s shoulder. This time Shiro flinches, snapping his head around to look back. Hide doesn’t look even a little bit startled. Kaneki admires his calm.

“Just remember,” the human tells Shiro. “If you feel uncomfortable for any reason, you can tell us to stop. We’re not going to force you into anything you don’t want.”

“We’ll be asking you questions as we go,” Kaneki adds. “If it feels good or bad, just let us know.”

“We want you to feel good about this,” Hide finishes. “All of this.” Taking care, he presses a soft kiss to Shiro’s shoulder blade. “This okay?”

A perplexed expression is on the ghoul’s face, like he isn’t entirely certain what to think of the new sensation. Eventually he nods, and Kaneki can tell that Hide has smiled. Now it’s his turn. Kaneki scoots a little closer, and as his knees bump in between Shiro’s, the ghoul turns his attention to him.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” Kaneki tells him. He licks his lips, and Shiro mimics him. 

“Is that okay?”

Shiro nods. Kaneki lifts his hands up to either side of the ghoul’s face, running his thumbs over the sharp edges of his cheekbones. Shiro’s gained a lot of weight since coming to live with them, but the signs of wherever it was that he came from are still evident. Kaneki pulls his focus away from that and leans forward, rising up on his knees slightly, and presses his lips to Shiro’s.

Kaneki’s first kiss with Shiro is different, far different from his first kiss with Hide. There’s no enthusiasm or anticipation, no delight. Only tightly-wound wariness. Kaneki can feel Shiro shaking with tension (fear), and immediately he pulls back, looks seriously into mirroring gray eyes.

“Is it because I’m a ghoul?”

Shiro nods, reluctantly. Kaneki repeats the motion, releasing a quiet sigh. He understands Shiro’s apprehension. It’s only natural for him to be uneasy about this much proximity with another ghoul, especially one that he’s fought (beaten) before.

“Shiro-san,” Kaneki says, after he’s thought for a bit. “I’ve been doing this with a human partner for five years now. I promise you, you will not be hurt.”

Shiro bristles. It’s unexpected, and Kaneki can see Hide cautiously scoot back. He’s on the kagune end of things. And somehow Kaneki just put him at risk.

“I do not fear pain,” Shiro snarls.

“I’m not saying that you do,” Kaneki answers, though a small part of him thinks that perhaps he should. “But no one _wants_ to experience it. At least, not normally. And something like kissing isn’t supposed to be painful. So if you’re hurting for any reason, you need to let us know, because that would mean we’re doing something wrong.”

“Very wrong,” Hide murmurs.

Shiro relaxes. A little. At least he doesn’t seem quite so angry anymore, going from the fact that Hide has moved closer again. His gentle massaging at the ghoul’s back seems to be helping. Kaneki leans forward for a second time.

“Now, I’m going to kiss you again,” he tells Shiro, moving his hands up. This time they curl behind his ears, slide up into feathery white hair. “Try to relax, okay? It’s much better that way.”

Shiro nods, and Kaneki kisses him again. The other ghoul is still tense, but this time Kaneki decides to stay for a little while, and he can feel as Shiro slowly relaxes underneath him. His mouth presses back against Kaneki’s, and Kaneki smiles, pulling back just to kiss him again.

Shiro’s lips part in a sudden gasp, and he pulls away from Kaneki to twist his head around, stare down at Hide kissing along his shoulders. He has that playful light in his eyes as he lifts his eyebrows, peers up at Shiro.

“This okay?” he asks.

Shiro’s eyes are half-lidded, he’s contemplating the sensations again. Eventually he nods, and Hide returns his attentions to the ghoul’s back. Kaneki turns Shiro’s face back towards himself and kisses him again. It gets easier, better, with each contact. The half-ghoul moves away from lips now, kissing at cheeks, chin, nose.

“How’s that?” he murmurs in question.

“Feels a little silly,” Shiro mutters back. “But… not bad.”

Kaneki licks his lips and again Shiro copies him. Their tongues come startlingly close to swiping across each other, but neither ghoul reacts. Kaneki measures Shiro for a moment, thoughtful.

“Then how about this?”

He leans down, under Shiro’s head, and kisses open-mouthed at the junction of neck and jawline, pressing his tongue against hot skin. One of Hide’s favorite places. He hears Shiro suck in a breath, feels his arms twitch at his sides.

“ _Yes,_ ” he breathes.

Kaneki feels triumphant, he’s found something that Shiro has no doubts over liking, and he withdraws for a moment to take Shiro’s hands, pulling one into his hair and guiding the other to his back.

“I, I like this,” he explains quietly. “If you’re alright with—hm?”

Shiro has moved the other hand, tugging now at the front of Kaneki’s shirt. “This is in the way,” he states, clearly disapproving.

“You want me to take it off?” Kaneki asks. Shiro nods.

“Mine, too?” Hide adds. Shiro nods again.

The boyfriends scoot back for a moment as they pull loose-fitting T-shirts off over their heads (both Hide’s). Kaneki smiles briefly as he sees the beginnings of a blush on Hide’s cheeks already. His partner notices, of course, and sticks his tongue out in response. They both giggle.

Shiro is craning his neck to look at both of them, and he seems satisfied.

“This is fair,” he decides.

“Oh yeah,” Hide hums, and immediately focuses on Shiro’s back again.

Kaneki takes note of the soft sigh it induces from the ghoul and reaches for Shiro’s hands again. The ghoul lifts them up before he has the chance, tangling fingers in Kaneki’s raven hair and sliding rough-padded palms down the smooth skin of his back.

Kaneki places his own hands on Shiro’s shoulders for balance before leaning under his head to kiss at his neck again, rolling his tongue slowly (cautiously) over arteries and jugular. Shiro breathes in sharply before tilting his head to the side, giving Kaneki free access.

The half-ghoul closes his eyes, pressing his lips, tongue, against the vulnerable flesh in soft touches that hardly even seem real. Yet he can feel Shiro’s pulse under his skin, sense the beat picking up and oh, _oh,_ his _scent_ is so wonderful it could _drive him mad_ but restrain comes first.

“Kaneki,” Hide whispers.

Kaneki’s eyes flare, responding to the call of his lover. He’s startled to see Hide looking straight at him, but he doesn’t stop kissing Shiro’s neck. Hide is doing the same, in fact, along the back of Shiro’s neck, and the ghoul’s breathing continues to stutter under their attention. Hide breaks away between kisses, however, to whisper praises to Kaneki.

“You’re being so gentle to him, so good… you like it, Shiro-san? You like how careful he is?”

“Yes,” Shiro grunts, his voice thrumming against Kaneki’s lips. It makes the half-ghoul’s eyes roll shut, it’s pleasant, but Hide is talking to him again.

“Keeping your hands still, so still…”

The human marvels at Kaneki, fitting his lips around the knuckles of his lover’s fingers, sucking at each one. Kaneki licks his lips, mouth dry, but still he keeps kissing Shiro. Lips on his collarbone, his throat.

“Taking it slow. Got so much control. You’re being so good to him, damn. Makes me wanna kiss you.”

Kaneki’s eyes track Hide’s movement upward, kissing behind Shiro’s ear. The ghoul shudders, his kakugan appearing for the briefest moment as Hide’s tongue traces the outline of his ear. The human’s next words are a cracked, pleading whine.

“Makes me wanna kiss you so _fucking bad._ ”

He wants attention. He needs attention, but Kaneki can’t, this is about Shiro and not them, they have to take care of Shiro first—

Kaneki’s first reaction is shock when Shiro drags him back by his hair. The other ghoul’s throat works nervously for several seconds, his eyes darting over to where he must feel Hide kissing the back of his neck. Hide is becoming more vocal now, humming and murmuring curses under his breath.

“Kiss him,” Shiro says flatly. He somehow manages to look both puzzled and amused, and possibly a bit turned on. It’s hard to tell. “Nagachika may very well die if you don’t.”

“Mmmm, yeah,” Hide mumbles into Shiro’s skin. The ghoul bites his lips; Kaneki does, too. Hide turns his eyes up to meet Kaneki’s, honey brown irises disappearing under blown out pupils. “Should do something ‘bout that, Ken.”

Kaneki needs no further urging. Shiro releases his hair and shifts so he’s up against the back of the futon, watches as Hide and Kaneki practically crash together, mouths finding each other by instinct. Hide’s fingers knot in Kaneki’s hair while Kaneki grips the back of Hide’s neck with one hand and rolls a nipple between the fingers of the other. He doesn’t feel that draws quite enough of a reaction from Hide and drops his hand, curls his fingers underneath the prominent bulge in the other man’s pants and slowly drags his fingers up.

There are very, very good reasons for Kaneki liking to keep his nails longer.

Hide breaks away first, he always does, head falling back as he whines a sharp fuck. Barely seconds pass before he falls back toward Kaneki again, tongues twisting into each other’s mouths as he groans. He’s such a _vocal_ man, Kaneki knows he couldn’t stop himself if he tried. And he loves it.

His partner breaks off again, drops his head onto Kaneki’s shoulder as his fingers dig into his back. He’s cursing, whispering filthy praises into the ghoul’s ear as he grinds down on his hand, greedy for the other man’s touch. A broken noise stumbles past his lips when Kaneki stops, pushing him back by the shoulders before pulling his head back in and fucking his tongue into his partner’s open mouth.

Hide follows his movements with borderline desperation, needing, _needing_ to be touched, handled, pushed past the point of words and sense until there is nothing left but what they _feel._ Together. And Kaneki wants to lead him there, _oh_ how he wants to take him back to that place, but—

A third hand seizes Kaneki’s hair and he is dragged away, nails scraping down Hide’s arms as they’re forced apart. Hide collapses back on the futon, his chest flushed and heaving, shaking from head to toe. He looks like he’s going to cry, hands trembling, lips forming around a silent plea of Kaneki’s name. He won’t be moving for a while; too helpless in the face of sudden denial.

But now Shiro is here, leaning his face in toward Kaneki’s. There’s an aggressive and _hungry_ look in his gray eyes, so deeply ravenous, it seems the ghoul intends to swallow him whole with his gaze alone. Kaneki thinks to himself that he really wouldn’t mind.

“Kiss me like that,” Shiro commands, and that may have been a mistake.

Kaneki isn’t given a moment to clear his head and so he doesn’t think twice. He takes a fistful of that white, _white_ hair, fingernails digging into the nape of Shiro’s neck, and he practically lunges for him. His lips are forceful now, hungry and seeking, and he runs his tongue across the ghoul’s lips until they open and he can thrust his tongue inside. A groan pushes up from the back of Shiro’s throat, the first Kaneki has heard, and yes, _yes,_ it feels good.

Then the ghoul startles and pulls back sharply, a choked noise expressing his shock. Kaneki blinks dazedly at the sudden empty space between them, follows after Shiro, and then sees that the reason he’s recoiled is Hide. The human’s made a comeback, crouched low, tongue hanging from between his teeth. Kaneki knows exactly what he’s been doing. His spine, skin stretched over it, prickles with desire (envy). Now that he knows Shiro is watching, Hide leans in to sink teeth into the ghoul’s flesh, retreating when he sucks in an almost panicked breath.

“You’re—you’re not a _ghoul!_ ” Shiro stammers. Bewildered, flustered. His blunt nails are tearing through the skin at the base of Kaneki’s back, hands shaking.

“Humans are into some strange stuff,” Hide answers simply. He pulls his tongue back into his mouth, sits up. “How does it feel?”

“ _Disgusting,_ ” Shiro spits.

Hide shares an alarmed look with his boyfriend before Shiro leans forward and kisses him, and Kaneki can tell from the curl of Hide’s fingers and the roll of his eyes that tongue is involved. Shiro pulls back and Hide stares at him in shock, face flushed. Shiro licks his lips, absorbing Hide’s taste, growls.

“Do _not_ stop.”

Hide nods mutely. Shiro turns back to Kaneki, a shudder running up his body as Hide licks again, this time more boldly. The ghoul’s fingers dig into the space between Kaneki’s shoulder blades, pulling him forward.

“Keep going,” he orders, and Kaneki does.

His tongue fucks into Shiro’s mouth and he revels in the touch of the other ghoul’s hands, running down his back, pushing in temporary bruises over his hips. Shiro doesn’t seem to realize how hard he’s pressing, and Kaneki is _fiercely_ pleased by that, pleased by this unconscious loss of control. He kisses more strongly, more insistently, pushes his body closer to Shiro’s in search of friction. He can tell from Hide’s tones that he’s hard as well, that he must be touching himself as he licks, kisses, bites up down and down Shiro’s back. The string of breathy curses are a dead giveaway. Kaneki wishes he could see.

Shiro seems to remember something from watching Kaneki and Hide just a moment before, and moves his hands from Kaneki’s back to his chest, secures a nipple between thumb and index finger and rolls it between. Kaneki stiffens but doesn’t break off their kiss, so Shiro drops his hand and grabs his covered cock instead.

Kaneki breaks off now, a stuttering gasp up his throat as his body jerks at the unexpected surge in sensation. Shiro moves closer, tightening his hold, and Kaneki chokes, scrabbles at the ghoul’s shoulders. Hide is watching with a grin, with dark, _dark_ eyes.

Shiro grips the back of Kaneki’s neck to hold him steady, fingernails digging shallowly into the nape. He surges forward and Kaneki has his mouth open, ready, but the ghoul goes for his neck instead and sinks his teeth in where it joins with his shoulders. Kaneki gasps, shudders, fuck it _hurts,_ but in such a _good way,_ and _god fucking damn_ is he aroused. He puts shaking hands on Shiro’s shoulders, anchoring himself. Shiro pulls his teeth off Kaneki’s skin, kisses the mark he leaves, moves elsewhere on the half-ghoul’s neck.

Kaneki looks down Shiro’s back to watch Hide, who is lavishing attention upon the ghoul’s skin, slick from licks and open-mouthed kisses. There are bite marks already healing. Hide’s whole face is red, even his ears, he’s struggling to breathe. The human lets his head fall against Shiro’s back as he paws at himself through his pants, somehow having kept himself from unzipping them so far. Kaneki manages to reach out to him, take his hand, silently signaling. _Wait._ This is just kissing. _Amazing_ kissing. But Shiro has only agreed to that.

Hide listens, obeys Kaneki, but he still whines. He’s shaking, so badly. Kaneki lets go of his hand to put his fingers in his hair, gently stroking through it. It’s difficult to keep from fisting the golden locks, with Shiro gnawing into his neck.

“P-poor boy,” he murmurs. “It’ll be alright, shh.”

“Fuck,” Hide whimpers, pushing up into his lover’s hand. His shaking only grows worse. “Fuck, _Kaneki._ ”

“Shhh.”

Shiro seems to realize that something has changed and he pulls away from Kaneki. His kakugan are blown out, black and red in stark contrast. Blood is on his lips. He glances over his shoulder to look down at Hide, brow creasing as he licks Kaneki’s blood off his lips.

“Are you in pain?” he asks.

Hide only whines in response. Shiro looks over at Kaneki, alarm plastered across his features, and Kaneki struggles to gather enough coherency to explain.

“He’s… aroused,” he tells Shiro, gesturing to Hide awkwardly. “Very, ah… With Hide, he gets very loud and just sounds…”

“Pained?” Shiro finishes.

“It’s very overwhelming,” Hide mutters. His shoulders hunch, eyes glaze over. Shudders. “Ahhh, ahaha, shit. _Shit._ ”

Shiro stares at Kaneki. Again with the alarm. “Did I do this?”

“I think we… we all did,” Kaneki manages. He gestures between himself and Shiro. 

“A-after all, we’ve got the same problem. We’re just. Quieter.”

Shiro is aware, obviously. He doesn’t blush and even say anything, his kakugan slowly fading as he frowns, expression carefully blank. Kaneki has no idea what he could be thinking. Hide can read it, of course.

“D-do you wanna stop?” he asks quietly. Shiro looks down at him with open concern, as if _he_ is the one they all ought to be worrying about. “We can stop. Or keep going. Whatever you want.”

“Remember what we said,” Kaneki adds. “If you’re uncomfortable, for any reason…”

Shiro nods. It’s clear that he’s uncomfortable, but Kaneki can’t tell what he’s going to do about it. Hide doesn’t give an indication, either, just waiting. Shiro’s back nails pick at the pads of his fingers.

“I…” he says slowly. All his earlier ferocity and desire has fallen to hesitance. But Kaneki can see now, see that he’s made up his mind. “I want to stop.”

And, somehow, knowing that much is enough for each of them to relax. Both Hide and Kaneki nod, moving back to give Shiro more space. The ghoul seems relieved, but Kaneki can’t be sure.

“Okay,” Hide says, and Kaneki marvels at how soft his voice is, how utterly _kind_ he can be when forced to stop at the very edge. “That’s okay.” He pats the ghoul’s shoulder, smiles. “A cold shower can help, by the way.”

Shiro blinks in surprise. “Then shouldn’t _you_ be the one taking it?”

“Heh, I’ll be fine,” Hide assures him. He’s still smiling, shakily. “Got Kaneki here with me. Go take care of yourself, man.”

Shiro nods reluctantly, standing up to his feet with an unsteady sigh. Before he walks away, Hide catches him by the wrist.

“Just…” He swallows, looks up at Shiro. Serious. “Don’t feel ashamed about this, okay? There’s nothing wrong with what we just did. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to stop. If you ever want to do this again, or don’t, that’s okay. We’ll be here. Right, Kaneki?”

Kaneki nods, looks up at Shiro and hopes that he understands. “Right.”

Something in Shiro’s face clears. He nods wordlessly, eyes softening, and Hides lets him go. They both watch as he walks away, going to back to shower again.

“He’ll be okay,” Hide says, calm, certain. “He’s a tough one, takes after you.” He slides a look over at his boyfriend, smiles broad enough for his eyes to crinkle up. “For some reason.”

“Oh, shut up,” Kaneki mutters.

“Make me.”

Hide turns to his lover and leans forward, kissing him once again. His fingers trace along Kaneki’s sides, trembling, but he seizes enough strength to pull Kaneki over his body before he falls, spreads his legs and begs into the ghoul’s mouth.

_“Please.”_

It’s amazing that Hide still asks, after all these years. Kaneki loves it. And he would never, ever deny a lover who begs him so prettily, so adoringly.

Never.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I thought to myself that friend birthdays _have_ to be enough reason to get off my ass and start writing smut. And, since it was under her _very_ persistent guidance that I opened the kanehidekane treasure chest, I figured there couldn't be a better ship to start with than this.
> 
> Happy birthday, bby!


	2. Night In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter: after three months, hide and kaneki finally have a night to themselves. but _of course_ there's a wrench to be thrown in somewhere.
> 
> Timeline: mid-january of '15 (when this was supposed to be posted. whoops)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh my god guys this was never supposed to take so long i am s o r r y. have 14020 words of. whatever this is. my, look at how many tags got added this chapter.......

When he’s not working, Hide usually leaves his cell phone’s sound on. He likes the different ringtones, the dings of received messages and emails, the chirps as he taps out digits, letters, symbols. However. Tonight is different. He’s at work and the sound is on, and the familiar tones of dialing his boyfriend are almost nerve-wracking.

Hide jokes (too much, probably) that he’s lost track of how many times he’s had to call Kaneki and tell him that he’ll be staying overnight at the office—after all, he has been a CCG operative for over five years now. But the truth is, he knows the exact number of times he’s had to go through this call.

Seven. And this one, going up to his ear, is eight. Hide reminds himself to be grateful. Grateful that he’s conscious to make the call on his own. Grateful that he’s _alive_ to make the call on his own. His fingers are twisting nervously in hospital sheets, tightening around his phone. His body aches. His chest is tight for other reasons.

_“Hello?”_

“Kaneki! Hey…” Hide’s eyes dart over the ceiling, walls, floor, his voice trailing away. Everything here is white. Not like the soft, pleasant white of Shiro’s hair, but a sterile, impersonal color. The fingers of his right hand fidget before he winces, remembering that he needs to keep that hand still. “So, I’m gonna be staying at work tonight.”

A pause. Hide can hear the intake of his partner’s breath, knows that he’s bracing himself. _“How bad is it?”_

“Nothing broken this time,” Hide starts, aiming to reassure his partner before telling him the full damage.

Because he has to tell him, it’s a rule. The last (and only) time he hadn’t, Kaneki ended up risking exposure by coming _into_ CCG headquarters and eventually, somehow, making it all the way to Amon. Hide had been shocked and touched, and since then he has remembered that the possibility of his loved ones being critically injured or possibly _dead_ is enough to make Kaneki behave very, very recklessly. So Hide keeps him informed.

Plus, after that one time, Amon had been plenty pissed for the breach in protocol. Reasonably so, of course, but Hide is not looking for a repeat.

“No kagune damage,” he tells his partner. Leans back on the bed before cringing and pulling himself away. “Mostly dragged and thrown around here and there. Knees and shins are kinda banged up. My right hand’s all torn up from catching myself on the pavement, threw out my shoulder but that should be fine in a week or so. Most of the damage is on my back. Like I said, I got dragged.” Another cringe. “And thrown.”

_“Are you okay?”_

“Well, I didn’t lose consciousness, so that’s a plus,” Hide says mildly. _I was fucking terrified,_ he doesn’t say. Fear’s a normal part of the job, but that particular worrying fact is not one for Kaneki to know. “Only needed a few stitches. Ghoul got away, though, so Amon-san’s putting in extra time for review, see where we goofed up. He’s probably pacing a furious oval through our cubicle about now.”

_“You’re certain that you’re alright.”_

“Yes,” Hide answers, staying patient. Kaneki always has to be sure when it comes to these things. “I’ll be home in a few more days, I just figure that not moving around would be the best plan for now.”

 _“Alright,”_ Kaneki sighs. _“Hide...”_

“Yeah?”

 _“Come back soon,”_ Kaneki says quietly, and Hide can picture it, the phone cradled between palm and cheek, Kaneki’s gray eyes half-lidded and soft lips parting around words. Kaneki has the softest lips on this earth, and it really should be a crime. A sin, even. _“You’ll be better taken care of here at home.”_

“Are you saying that you’ll be taking care of me?” Hide asks, cracking a grin that Kaneki can’t see, but he knows he can sense.

_“If that’s what you want.”_

“That is definitely what I want.”

_“Then get home soon. And Hide?”_

“Yeah?”

 _“Be_ careful _.”_

“I know, man,” Hide sighs back. His head bows, eyes closing. “I know.”

\---

Hide makes it three nights in the CCG’s personal hospital (or whatever it is) before he’s begging every doctor and nurse to just send him home already. It takes some time to rope in Amon’s support, and finally Hide is on his way, but not with the driver he was expecting—Amon is on the verge of breakthrough, even more fired up about it than usual, so it is Akira Mado who offers to take Hide home.

He keeps thanking her, nervous in spite of how often they’ve worked together. Actually, he’s more nervous _because_ of how often they’ve worked together. Seeing, up close and personal, the sheer skill level of two powerful investigators’ daughter is an _absolutely terrifying_ experience, and this lady does it all in heels and a pencil skirt. The more Hide gets to know Akira, the more intimidated he is by Akira. Plus, he’s at least halfway sure that she knows something about Kaneki. Those cherry blossom eyes are capable of cutting to the marrow.

“That’s enough, Nagachika,” Akira says, waving off his gratitude as he hobbles after her. She glances back, and the younger investigator isn’t quite sure whether the twitch of her lips is a smile or a frown. “I do owe you this much, at least.”

“Ehhh,” Hide mutters, shoulders hunching uncomfortably. He gets uneasy when people start talking debts, owing this and that. It’s always too easy for things to get out of hand.

“Hm.” Hide startles as he realizes that Akira has stopped walking to look back at him, scrutinizing. “Amon’s right,” she decides, “you really don’t like having people obligated to you.”

“Can’t say I see the appeal in it,” Hide replies. He’s finally caught up to the woman, but as Akira starts walking again he’s soon left several strides behind. She never pulls further ahead than that, however. “Do you? Like having people obligated to you, I mean.”

“That depends,” Akira says, maintaining her stride as she answers. She stops only as they reach the elevator, and she holds the door until Hide is inside. “If the person has something of value to offer, then it would be useful to have some sense of obligation from them. Otherwise it isn’t much more than a pointless courtesy.”

“Ah.” Hide watches the numbers of the elevator tick down as they descend to the garages. “That… sounds about right.”

Akira doesn’t attempt to continue the conversation. Neither does Hide. Silence descends, not quite comfortable but not quite stifling, either. It just is. Things tend to be that way with Akira.

Hide continues to follow the woman as she exits the elevator and walks most of the way across the parking lot to where her car is located. She unlocks both passenger and driver door, and watches as Hide carefully loads himself in before seating herself behind the wheel.

“Comfortable?” she asks.

“ _No,_ ” Hide grunts. He’s trying to sit and relax, while simultaneously trying to avoid pressing his back into anything. Obviously, he’s failing.

He sees Akira’s lips twitch again, this time definitely a smile, but there’s sympathy in it. She slides her key into place and waits for the engine to turn over, and once Hide’s buckled in she pulls out of the parking space, beginning the roundabout route back up to the surface.

It’s pouring. The sky is practically _vomiting_ water. The volume of it pounding against the roof, hood, windshield, is enough to make Hide jump at first. The wipers are an almost laughable effort at clearing up their visibility, and Hide measures Akira’s expression, the slow arch of her eyebrows as she takes in the weather with an almost impressed expression.

“I trust that you own an umbrella, Nagachika?” she queries, and Hide gives a short laugh.

“I don’t think an umbrella would do much to save me from a flash flood falling from the sky,” he points out, and grimaces at the rain. “This is one hell of a downpour. Doesn’t look like it’s gonna let up for a while, either.”

“According to the forecast, the winds are expected to pick up as well,” Akira tells him. “I hope you weren’t planning on going out anywhere tonight.”

“No, ma’am,” Hide says adamantly. “A nice, restful evening, that’s all I’m planning on.”

Akira smiles, like she doesn’t quite believe that, and sets the car back into motion, rolling out into the pounding rain as she takes Hide home. Hide wants to listen to music but he knows better than to interfere with Akira’s radio, set to a quiet in-between that only generates white noise. It’s oddly soothing, Hide finds, and before he quite realizes it, his back is against the seat and eyes drooping closed, breath growing slower and deeper until…

They swerve. Hide jerks awake, hands flying out for some kind of hold, and he instantly looks to Akira, her tight brows and muttered curses toward drivers who “can’t handle rain.” She knows without looking that Hide’s been woken up and gives a terse apology as she rights the vehicle, sets them steady on their way once again. Hide notices that the sky has gone fully dark by now, so they must be close to the apartment complex he and Kaneki live in.

He yawns, squints out the window for landmarks under streetlamps, familiar street names. It doesn’t take him long to get his bearings, he’s spent most of his lifetime exploring the streets of the 20th ward—much to his parents’ dismay. Still, he can barely see more than five meters beyond their vehicle, and it’s obvious that the rain has gotten worse. The winds have picked up too, just as Akira said they would, and Hide watches through the headlights as sheets of water are thrown this way and that.

He knows it’s gotta be icy cold, as well. The man groans, leaning away from the back of his seat as he grimaces at the weather once again.

“I hate winter,” he mutters.

“At least it isn’t snow,” Akira remarks mildly. “Or ice.” They come to a temporary stop at an intersection, and she glances up to read the road signs. “This is your street, yes?”

“Yup,” Hide confirms. “Turn right; we’re the third apartment building on the left, right up by the road.”

Akira nods. With no other vehicles to wait on, she takes the turn and pulls up to the sidewalk in front of their building. Hide can see lights on in the apartment, figures that Kaneki is working on a paper, or perhaps reviewing student submissions. Shiro’s probably doing Shiro things. Pushups or sleeping somewhere. Or brooding in the shower, he’s been doing that a lot lately.

“Nagachika.”

Hide startles, not realizing that he’d drifted off, and looks back to Akira. He expects her to tell him to leave the car, but what she says instead comes almost as a surprise. Akira isn’t really one to express a lot of concern for others, even by proxy.

“The Quinx have been asking about you,” she tells Hide. “They want to know how your recovery is going. They’re quite worried, actually.”

Hide chuckles. “Those kids… give somebody a few regenerative RC cells, and suddenly everyone’s fragile. I’m okay, though,” he adds. “Been banged up plenty worse before. Tell ‘em I said thanks for asking, will you?”

“Of course,” Akira nods. Then she frowns slightly, turns that even pink _stare_ on Hide again. “However, Nagachika, you need to remember—they’re not kids.”

“I know,” Hide answers solemnly. Quietly. He almost can’t be heard over the storm. “But they should be, shouldn’t they?”

They stare at each other for another moment before looking away, Akira to fix her gaze along the path of her headlights, Hide to frown pensively down at his hands. He picks absently at the bandage over his right hand before forcing himself to leave it alone. Bad habits, can’t afford to develop them.

It hits him, sometimes, just how young they all are. How rare it is to meet an investigator over the age of thirty, rarer still to meet a veteran over forty—a veteran of the field, that is. Desk workers and technicians have significantly greater longevity. That’s the work Kaneki would prefer him doing, but Hide knows he’s capable of giving more, that he should give more.

“Thanks for the ride, Akira-san.”

“I’ll pick you up once you’re cleared for duty again,” the woman replies. Her fingers drum on the upper curve of the steering wheel. “This storm is expected to last a few more days. Take the time to heal.”

“Thanks,” Hide says again. He unlocks his door and then forces it open, stepping out into the hectic winter weather. He’s nearly blown off his feet straight away, soaked through his coat and hood, and he runs clumsily for the front door. _Legs._ They so aren’t loving him right now.

The overhang does nothing to protect him from the wind-whipped rain. Seeing that he’s made it to the door, Akira drives away, and Hide spends the next few seconds fumbling with his key and then wrangling the door open. Fighting the elements like a _true_ man!

Hide really hates winter.

Finally, he wins against the wind and the door, and he slams it shut behind him before taking his soggy self to the stairs and sloshing upward. After two years here, he’s reconciled with the fact that the elevator is never going to be fixed. Ugh, wet socks. Ugh, third floor apartment.

The important thing is that Hide makes it, rather than passing out somewhere on the concrete steps. He stands in front of the apartment door, cold and dripping, and extracts his keys once again to unlock the door. He trudges in, calling a tired “I’m home” as he closes the door behind him.

He gets his shoes off, grits his teeth as he peels off his coat and hood. Then it’s further into the apartment he goes, looking for a heat source—preferably his boyfriend.

He spots Kaneki on the folded futon, a book in his lap with Hide’s orange headphones fitted over his ears. Probably listening to something mellow, he’s been rather fond of smooth jazz lately. Hide wanders over to sag over the back of the futon, loosely folding his clammy arms around the ghoul’s neck.

“I’m cold,” he mutters, plopping his face on top of his partner’s head.

“So I’ve noticed,” Kaneki answers, stiffening at the contact before setting his book aside and pulling the headphones down to hang around his neck. Once he turns, his expression shifts to one of alarm. “Hide, you’re soaking wet!”

“And cold,” Hide adds. He’s still sagged over the futon, makes feeble grabby gestures with his mobile hand as his boyfriend continues to lean away.

“Bathroom,” the ghoul decides, standing up to walk around the futon, pulling Hide after him. “You can’t stay in those clothes, you’ll get sick.”

“Getting naked already?” Hide lifts his eyebrows. “Nice. Wait, where’s Shiro-san?”

“He went out for the day,” Kaneki explains. He walks into the bathroom as Hide trails behind, reaches for the stool they keep between the toilet and shower. “Told me that he’s been feeling restless lately, and wanted to revisit some haunts around the city.”

He rubs absently at his chin as he says it. Hide knows he can trust his partner with whatever he’s chosen to hide.

“He has haunts?” Hide tilts his head thoughtfully, processing this new tidbit about the ghoul sharing their home. “Huh.”

“Yes,” Kaneki says. “Knowing—” Both he and Hide flinch as the wind _throws_ more downpour against the building, almost enough force to rattle the windows. The weather just keeps getting worse. “Knowing him, he’s probably found someplace to wait until this storm blows over. He wasn’t planning to return until late, anyhow.”

“A day to himself,” Hide muses. “Must’ve had a lot to think over.”

“It seemed that way,” Kaneki agrees. “He’s been on edge ever since hearing that you’d gotten hurt.” He sets the stool down in the center of the bathroom, on the fluffy bath rug Hide still doesn’t remember buying, and beckons his partner over. “No briefcase today?”

“Nah, stuff’s all back at the office.” Hide walks over slowly as he replies, hops up on the stool with some care. “Bike, too. Akira-san’s gonna give me a ride up once the boss decides I’m fit for duty again.”

Kaneki nods, steps closer to Hide and begins unbuttoning his suit jacket. The fabric is difficult to work with, being all soaked, but Hide’s too busy watching his partner’s face to really be helping just yet. Kaneki appears calm, his hands are steady, but already Hide can see the creases around his eyes, the thinning of his lips as he braces himself, braces for the sight of Hide’s injuries.

This is another part of their routine. Kaneki has to know the damage, but he also has to see it for himself—one of the reasons Hide will usually take a few days before returning home. Now that he’s here, he knows better than to resist Kaneki when he decides that his partner needs looking after. They’re both stubborn when it comes to that. So he sits on the cold plastic stool, waiting as his partner strips him down to skin and bandages and slowly dripping hair.

There’s towels for that, one twisting up around his head and hair, the other carefully moved over his body to dry off his chilled skin. Hide doesn’t realize he’s shivering until Kaneki’s warm hand curls over his own, and a distant part of him notes that his boyfriend’s nails are silver tonight. Must’ve visited Hinami recently. Then he looks up.

Hide swears, up and down, that the sheer _worry_ in Kaneki’s eyes is going to kill him one of these days. The tight-knit brows and thinly pressed lips make him even more readable than usual. He’s looking over Hide’s face, eyes drifting across features he must’ve memorized a long time ago, to sight, to touch, to scent.

He’s looking for damage. Hide can tell.

“How are you feeling?” Kaneki asks.

“Sore,” Hide replies, not bothering to state otherwise. With Kaneki, anything less than honesty isn’t going to cut it. “Tired. ‘S my first day off painkillers, so…”

He lets his voice trail off there. Kaneki nods slowly, turning his eyes away from his lover’s face to go back to assessing the damage. He apparently decides that Hide’s headphones are in the way, so he leaves those on the counter along with his phone. The second towel is discarded, left hanging from the nearest hook. Hide knows he’s shivering this time. Ugh. _Winter._

The bruises are gone by now, thankfully, and Hide’s shoulder isn’t killing him anymore. Some of the tears are already closed up. Still, most of Hide’s back is wrapped in bandages, and his right hand is torn up and smarting. At least his knees and shins aren’t looking too bad anymore.

Hide reaches across, clumsily takes his partner’s hand with his left instead of his right. “Hey. It’s not as bad as it looks.”

“It’s not as bad as you described,” Kaneki adds. A few more creases as he frowns. “That new medication you said they’re testing on the investigators, it looks like it works. That’s… that’s good.”

Also weird, if you ask Hide, but he doesn’t say so. He feels like he shouldn’t say anything yet, watching his partner for some sort of indication, waiting to see what he’s thinking. Kaneki’s hands have settled on top of Hide’s thighs, and he stares down at them without a word.

It’s been a while since Hide sat completely naked in front of his lover, and even longer since it was without any sense of desire or lust, just… silence. It’s solemn, the two of them in the brightly lit bathroom, storm winds battering at the far walls of their home. Kaneki is still staring down at his hands, shoulders tense, anxiety rising.

He’s too gentle, this man-turned-ghoul. Hide thinks about days and hours spent just watching him, taking in the light smiles, soft eyes. Almost always, he looks soft. Gentle. Hide knows that there’s incredible (terrifying) power that lurks beneath this man’s skin, a bloodshot black eye, kagune stronger than steel, and yet…

Yet he’s soft. He’s gentle and kindhearted, a man whose faith and love for others quietly bursts at the seams. As an investigator, Hide’s been taught and shown, again and again over the past five years, that such things do not, cannot, exist in a ghoul’s world. Cannot exist within a ghoul.

What a delight for those teachers to be wrong. What a tragedy for the proof to be kept a secret.

“Hide…” Kaneki finally speaks, his voice cracking around his lover’s name.

Hide reaches down to him, loose fingers of his bandaged right hand cupping the ghoul’s jaw to tilt it up, meet his eyes. Kaneki’s skin is warm under Hide’s chilled fingers, and he splays both hands out, fingers along rounded cheekbones, a thumb stroking over soft lips.

“I’m okay, Ken,” he murmurs, leaning down even as his back protests, his nose brushing into his partner’s hair. Breathes in. “I’m still here. The squads are okay, too.”

He hears, feels, Kaneki’s sigh, and all the relief in it. Hide’s thumb is still on his lips as he exhales, warm breath tickling over.

They stay for a while, Kaneki’s hands on Hide’s knees, Hide’s hands on his face, lips to his hair. Hide doesn’t push for any sort of movement yet. He’s come home scraped up one way or another before—eight times now, and it’s only going to keep happening as he continues work for the CCG. It’s something that leaves Kaneki shaken, every time. Hide doesn’t want to think of what would happen if he came home with a broken arm, a missing leg.

If he didn’t come home at all.

“I’m glad that you’re… that you’re safe now.” Kaneki’s voice is low, barely controlled. He’s probably chewing the inside of his lower lip. His fingers are tensing, pushing into the soft flesh of Hide’s legs, betraying his anxiety further. “I just… I just wish there was some way for you to avoid getting hurt like this.”

“Actually…”

Kaneki stiffens, snaps his head up to stare sharply back at Hide. The human swallows, gestures awkwardly.

“I might have… sorta… jumped in the way. This time.”

Kaneki’s expression shifts immediately, anger that’s just barely controlled. “ _What._ ”

“Listen, I can explain—”

“We have _talked_ about this, Hide!” Kaneki snaps, cutting him off. The ghoul distances himself, standing up as he turns away from his lover. The line of his shoulders is tense. “It’s one thing if you’re caught in the line of fire, but if you’re going around acting like some kind of human shield—you, you can’t _do that._ It’s not something you can just walk away from; you’ll die!”

“It’s not that simple, man,” Hide sighs. Kaneki still refuses to turn back, to look at him. “You know it isn’t. I mean, I couldn’t just stand by—”

“That doesn’t matter!”

Kaneki’s fists are tight at his sides, he’s shaking with anger and fear. Hide doesn’t say anything yet, he feels too sluggish to keep pace with his partner’s frustrated arguments. The human groans, puts his head in his hands. Ow, back.

“Who was it?” Kaneki demands. It hurts to hear him this suspicious, this angry, but—it is the eighth time. “One of Akira-san’s? You’ve been working with her squad a lot, lately. Mutsuki, he’s the one whose kagune doesn’t work…”

“He’s still a kid, man.” Hide sighs again. Still sits hunched over, though it only serves to hurt his back. “Sure, in the end he’d be able to walk away from it. Heal up in a day or two.”

“ _Exactly,_ ” Kaneki says harshly. Hide can’t stand to hear him talk like this, like Touka on an awful day, like the jaded investigators who are only in it for the genocide anymore. “Mutsuki is a Quinx. He gets to be the shield, the sword, that you can’t be. He’s strong enough—”

“He’s barely nineteen!” Hide exclaims, and immediately regrets the frustration in his voice. Too late for take-backs. “Do you remember how it was to fight when you first changed?” The words crack in his throat, eyes sting. “ _I do._ Mutsuki’s been a Quinx since he was seventeen. The sight, the smell, even the thought of blood is still enough to nauseate him. _Gah._ ”

Hide’s fingers rub at the tight knot that’s formed at the bridge of his nose. “I don’t…” He shakes his head, gestures helplessly. “I don’t want him to suffer like you have. Life’s given him too much shit to deal with as is.”

“Oh,” Kaneki says. It’s one word, one syllable, but it’s enough for Hide to know that he’s gotten through. His partner finally comes back to stand by him, but now it’s Hide who can’t bear to look him in the eye. “So that’s how it is.”

“Yeah.” Hide shakes his head again, laughing weakly. “I’m probably being stupid. Just today Akira-san reminded me that they’re not kids, but I still… _somebody’s_ gotta look after them, right? It’s not like their parents can.”

“No,” Kaneki says, quiet. He sighs. “Still… no matter how young they are, the fact remains that they are stronger than you. Stronger than most humans. And I don’t just mean physically.” His voice becomes softer still. “Take it from someone who knows. The change doesn’t take if you’re not strong.”

“I wish you could meet them,” Hide says, wistful. It’s a sentiment he expresses often. “These kids, they think they’re giving up their humanity so they can save humankind. If they knew you, they could learn that’s not true. That a change in your physiology doesn’t change who you are. It doesn’t damn you.”

Kaneki’s hand closes the gap between them, placing a gentle hold over Hide’s uninjured shoulder. It’s comforting.

“You’ve been thinking about this a lot.”

“Hospital beds give you a lot of time to think,” Hide mutters. He tips forward until his face is buried in the folds of Kaneki’s pajama shirt, trying to let some of his tension unwind in the solid warmth of his partner’s body. “I dunno what to say, man. I’m sore and scared and I really, really want you to kiss me so I can think about something else but maybe that’s selfish. Probably very selfish.”

Still, he lets Kaneki tilt his chin up, sits up straighter so their lips can meet. It’s tender and comforting, warm throughout. Maybe it’s okay to be selfish, sometimes. Kaneki’s hands move, drifting down Hide’s damaged sides to curl along his hips, and he deepens the kiss, opening his mouth to let Hide in.

He pulls back abruptly, leaving Hide with a confused sense of disappointment. The other man’s eyebrows have lowered, a worried frown across his lips.

“You’re shaking, Hide,” he says. “Are you alright?”

“Just cold,” Hide murmurs back. He takes Kaneki’s hands, pulls him closer. “Won’t be a problem if you keep kissing me.” Tries to smirk, it comes out weaker than he meant it to. “If you know what I mean.”

Kaneki gives him an exasperated look, shaking his head a little, and for Hide it’s a relief. More like the usual Kaneki, the one who’s managed to put up with his antics for most of their lives. Still, as the human’s been hoping, he obliges. Leans up to bring their lips together again, and Hide groans as Kaneki licks into his mouth, pushes closer with hands back on his hips. Hide thinks about bruises, scratches, possessive little marks that Kaneki will be far too gentle to leave behind today, and his eyes just about cross, toes curling.

Kaneki pulls back again but not by far, keeping their foreheads pressed against each other as they breathe. “Warmer?” he asks, lips curling up almost of their own accord.

“Uh-huh,” Hide answers dumbly. Kaneki moves in closer but he stops his partner, placing fingers over the ghoul’s lips. “H-hey. You know where else that mouth can go.”

Kaneki’s brows lift. “You sure?”

“Well, you said you’d take of me if I got home soon,” Hide reminds him. Smiles crookedly, spreads his legs apart to hook his toes over the stool's rungs. “And I’m home now…”

Kaneki nods thoughtfully, like Hide has laid out some impressive argument. Hide can’t complain, though, not when his partner leaves one last kiss in his mouth before moving down, pressing soft lips to the human’s hips and then settling between his legs. Hide gasps as his tongue rolls up the underside of his cock, _sensitive,_ and then Kaneki takes him into his mouth like he’s nothing, fucking _dives_ until Hide’s cock hits the back of his throat.

“D-damn it,” Hide stammers, fingers of his left hand gripping the edge of the stool, while the bandaged right twitches uselessly. “Kaneki, how do you d _oooo that, ohmygod._ ”

Kaneki pulls his mouth off Hide’s dick with some unholy wet sound, licks his blooming pink lips as he looks up at his partner. “Good?” he asks. Like he actually needs to.

“Good, so good, just keep— _ohhhhhh yes._ ” Kaneki sucks, hollows his cheeks, does something amazing with his tongue. “Yes, just keep, k-keep doing that.”

Kaneki hums in acknowledgment and Hide curses at the feel of that, Kaneki’s voice, Kaneki’s mouth, _Kaneki,_ taking him in and lavishing attention and how the hell did Hide get a lover this good to him. He’s shivering for different reasons now, breathing heavy as his toes curl and fingers clench. He’s incredible. He’s _great._

And he should know it.

“S-so good, Kaneki, y’feel so, _so_ good,” he gasps. Somehow he keeps from writhing right off the stoole; Kaneki’s hands on his hips are probably helping. “You always know wha, what to do with that mouth, sh- _shit, haaaa._ ”

Kaneki bobs and sucks, swirling his tongue around Hide’s cock and fuck, _fuck_ it’s gonna drive him crazy. The ghoul’s eyes were closed before but now they’re open, staring up at Hide, dark and blown wide with lust. Hide feels it go straight to his cock, whimpers as Kaneki deliberately scrapes his teeth over delicate skin.

He reaches out to him, right hand by instinct, bends shaking fingers to curl over the smooth line of his lover’s jaw, up his cheek. Kaneki watches the hand, watches him, agonizingly slow in his ministrations to Hide’s cock.

“Show me,” Hide asks, quiet, his thumb stroking at the corner of Kaneki’s eye. “Please, baby, I wanna see.”

Kaneki doesn’t blink, his iris transforming to a shining red as black furls out from around it. Hide shivers, bites his lip as his fingers trace the scarlet veins spidering out, over eyelids and cheeks. There’s a slight rise for each one, barely surrendering to the push of Hide’s fingers, but he doesn’t persist.

He’s caught up for a moment, his entire body still as he stares into eyes that display Kaneki’s dual nature so perfectly, it feels like it somehow _can’t_ be real.

“You’re so beautiful,” Hide breathes. How, _how in the world,_ is this man his? He’s entirely at loss. “Look at you,” he croons. “All this _power_ in your body, and you’re so gentle, so wonderful—hey, hey, don’t look away from me now. You know I’m right, Ken. You’re _incredible._ ”

Kaneki moans, sucks at Hide’s cock oh-so sweetly, and Hide shudders out a curse, head bowing. It was early in their sexual relations that he had discovered Kaneki’s little turn-on, learned just how responsive he is to being praised. In all kinds of ways, too. He gets crazier the more filthy the praise is, and Hide is quite delighted with the fact.

He just has to retain enough brain to keep it up.

“D-damn, Kaneki,” he gasps. His left hand is tangled through short raven locks, holding tight. His head throws back of its own accord, a shudder wracking up his body as his breath stutters out. “F- _fuck._ I, I want—Kanek— _Ken,_ I— _fuuuuck._ ”

Kaneki pulls off, again with that filthy wet sounds, blinks up at Hide as he licks precome off his lips. Hide’s cock is hard and aching, and he knows that if he lets his lover be, he’ll come from this alone but he wants—

“What do you want, Hide?” Kaneki asks.

Hide doesn’t really know how to answer yet, so he mashes their lips together, taking his own taste from Kaneki’s mouth. His fingers are all tangled in the ghoul’s hair, his touch is like _fire_ on Hide’s naked skin, and he’s wanting, _wanting_ —

“I want you,” Hide answers, and his voice comes out as a low rumble of _hunger._ Kaneki’s teeth flash bare, responding to the human’s desire. “I want you in me. Eat me out, finger me, fuck me, I don’t care, I just—I want you, I want as much of this flawless body as I can possibly touch, and if I can’t have it, then I’m gonna fucking cry.”

“Oh, Hide,” Kaneki murmurs. He untangles one hand from his hair and presses a kiss against his knuckles. You wouldn’t think such a tender, controlled gesture could come from someone who just had a mouthful of dick, but that’s Kaneki for you. “Are you sure?” the ghoul questions. “You’re still healing.”

“I trust you to be gentle,” Hide replies. His breath is becoming steady. Weirdly enough, he feels calmer now that he has literally begged his partner to fuck him. He props his forearms on his knees, winces as his back reminds him of its damage again.

“You trust me too much,” Kaneki mutters, glancing away.

“I’ll be fine. Seriously,” he continues, grabbing his partner’s hand and meeting his eyes. “If nothing else, you’ve proven yourself to be pretty damn good at taking care of me. I trust in that. In _you._ ” He pulls Kaneki up into another kiss, swallows his sigh, recognizes it as the slow unwind of the other man’s tension. He pulls back and smiles. “Got it?”

“Hide…”

Kaneki’s hands are up on Hide’s face now, his gaze fond. Hide feels warm under it. His responding smile is probably pretty dopey.

“You always know what to say,” Kaneki marvels fondly. “But first…”

He leans over Hide and carefully pulls out the hair tie and smattering of bobby pins Hide forgot he left in his hair. It’s a pain to remove now that his hair’s wet, and it’s with several yelps that they’re finally taken out and left on the counter, next to Hide’s headphones and Kaneki’s cell. His partner’s fingers brush his hair out to its full length, just past his shoulders. The bangs still fall over his eyes, not quite long enough to tuck behind his ears.

“You look good with your hair down,” Kaneki smiles.

“Why, thank you.” Hide doesn’t let his boyfriend escape without another kiss, and he grins up against the other man’s mouth, feeling Kaneki’s responding chuckle on his lips. “Now, about what I was asking for…”

“Why not all three?” Kaneki suggests, and Hide gives him a stunned look, because this is _not_ the reply he was expecting from his partner’s mouth. “That is, ah. If you’re feeling up to it.”

“We can play it by ear,” Hide answers faintly.

Kaneki steps back and pulls lightly to bring Hide following after. He doesn’t need much prompting. Unfortunately, though, he’s still kind of wobbly on his feet, and nearly trips on the bath rug. Kaneki is quick to notice and after catching him, moves to a position of support, dropping a kiss onto Hide’s damp hair as they make their way to the bedroom.

He’s thought ahead, Hide notes as he sees the curtains have been closed, the bed actually made. There’s always condoms and lube in the drawers of the bedside table, though they haven’t used either for quite a while now. Hopefully that’s going to change.

Kaneki guides Hide up to the bed, helps him settle down on his stomach, propping pillows under the crook of his arms so he can be more comfortable. Hide becomes aware of the storm again, rain battering at their curtained windows and door, but his attention is pulled away as he hears music. Kaneki retrieved his phone without his partner noticing, and now he leaves it on the table, playing something mellow and crooning at low volume.

“I’m surprised you didn’t deck the place with candles,” he remarks.

“I didn’t have time to prepare,” Kaneki replies.

He smiles, so easy, so relaxed, and Hide feels that he might cry a little. It has been a long, awful road to bring his lover, his best friend since childhood, to a place of happiness, of peace, and it’s such a delicate and _precious_ thing. Nothing short of miraculous.

“Hide?”

Hide blinks. Kaneki is giving him a perplexed look, his shirt off and black hair mussed. _Cute,_ Hide thinks. Kaneki would be flustered to hear it.

“You keep staring at me,” he continues. “What are you thinking about?”

“Mmm. Just ogling my boyfriend.” Hide winks, and Kaneki does that thing of his, a soft laugh with a shake of his head. There’s a twinkle in those gray eyes, and Hide takes that too, marks that as precious also.

“Well, I appreciate the, ah, the ogling.” Kaneki ruffles his fingers through his own hair, giving his partner a bemused yet affectionate look. It’s one that he gets often. “Not that there’s much to look at.”

“ _Excuse_ me?” Hide sits up indignantly before his back reminds him that no, nuh-uh, bad idea. He flops back onto his stomach, settling for an intensely affronted stare. “Would I be asking you to fuck me if you didn’t have the most incredible body in Japan? No, I would not. Would I be dating you if you weren’t the greatest guy in the world? _No, I would not._ ” He grumps into his pillow, trying to hide his grin. “Now get over here and have intercourse with me, dammit.”

Kaneki laughs (and blushes, that’s a victory), stripping the rest of the way down before crawling up next to Hide.

“You know, you have the most awful bed manner,” he comments lightly.

“That’s because I’m a grumpy old man.”

“But I’m older than you,” Kaneki reminds him. “Four months.”

“Shhhhh.”

Kaneki does it again, shakes his head with a laugh. He lies down across from Hide, on his side so their eyes can meet. He watches Hide for a while, and Hide watches back, wondering what he’s thinking. What he’s trying to do.

“What are you doing?” he asks, finally.

Kaneki smirks a little, playful. “Ogling my boyfriend,” he replies.

“Pff.” Hide snorts, absolutely not blushing. That would be dumb. “Kaneki—”

“Shh.” Kaneki places a finger over Hide’s lips, effectively silencing him. “I said I was going to take care of you. Why don’t you let me fulfill that promise?”

Hide nods mutely. Kaneki moves away his hand, leans in for a chaste kiss before rolling over to rummage through the bedside dresser for lube. He finds it after a few moments, sitting up and popping the cap open. Hide watches him squeeze a generous portion into his right hand, spreads it over the digits until the flavorless substance thickly coats each one.

Hide doesn’t quite realize he’s licking his lips until his partner catches him at it, and they both blush, awkward for a moment. Sometimes it’s like it hasn’t been seven years at all. Which can be nice, really.

There’s a moment of silence, a halt between songs, a hesitation in the storm, before Kaneki sits behind Hide with a sigh and everything starts moving again. His fingers just barely brush over the bandages across Hide’s back, and he winces.

“You’re sure about this?”

For answer, Hide moves up to his knees, his face still pushed into the pillows as he jerks his head in a nod. He can already feel the heat burning in his cheeks, keeping his face hidden in the pillow. It’s barely a brush from Kaneki’s fingers, the dry ones, but it’s enough for Hide to immediately spread his legs out in response.

“Good boy,” Kaneki murmurs, and Hide has to stifle a curse because Kaneki knows _exactly_ how he feels about pet names. He knows _exactly_ what they do to him.

“So,” he squeaks, his voice embarrassingly small. “You gonna sit there all night, or…?”

Kaneki laughs softly (it’s always softly, isn’t it) before moving closer. Hide can tell that he’s smiling, probably with that ridiculously fond look in his eyes. How he manages such reaction to a naked man in his bed, Hide doesn’t know, but it seems to be a mutual problem of theirs.

Hide stiffens, briefly, as Kaneki’s fingers spread over his ass and then push his cheeks apart. The ghoul hums quietly, Hide thinks he might hear the word _pretty_ slip past his lips. More blushing on the human’s part, dammit.

He shivers as he feels Kaneki moving closer still, sucks in a breath as his fingers tease around his entrance, slicking lube over the area. He leans over and kisses the small of Hide’s back, nips at his right cheek.

“Feel good?” he asks.

Hide jerks his head in a nod. He’s been doing that a lot tonight. “Y-yeah,” he stammers. He has to keep his arms stretched out for support, forearms propped under the pillows. The strain on the skin over his back stings like hell, but if Kaneki keeps doing what he’s doing, then there is no problem here.

Kaneki kisses the place he bit, though it wasn’t deep enough to leave a mark, and Hide releases a slow breath as his partner’s hands stop teasing, one slicked up finger working its way in, clear up to the knuckle.

“Shit,” Hide groans into the pillows. “ _Hoooooly shit,_ ” he adds as Kaneki flexes the digit, rubbing over the exact place he knows Hide’s prostate to be.

It isn’t just external features—Hide and Kaneki know each other inside and out, know exactly what to do to leave their partner writhing in ecstasy, how to be rough or gentle and love every second of it. Kaneki, in particular, likes to tease. Hide isn’t the biggest fan, but the end result is more than worth it.

Kaneki keeps going, working his partner up and spreading him open for his tongue, occasionally scraping his fingernails over Hide’s slowly leaking cock in (yet another) teasing gesture. It’s enough to leave Hide near brainless with want, rocking back on Kaneki’s two fingers and begging, begging, but he knows he won’t get what he wants just yet. Kaneki likes to take his time.

“You want this, hm?” Kaneki hums, and Hide can just barely stand to look back at him, meet those lustful gray eyes. Black by now, he has his kakugan out for Hide to see. “All three? Oh, Hide. I wish I could roll you over, love. You look so pretty when you get like this.”

“Fuck,” Hide whines. He buries his face in the pillows again, fisting the sheets, rocks back on Kaneki’s fingers desperately. “K- _Kaneki—_ ”

His skin is on fire. Hide’s known for a long time that he’s one hell of a blusher, from the tips of his ears down to his chest, but it’s actually rather rare for him to get turned on to that point. Unless Kaneki is involved. Then it’s easy. So, _so_ easy.

He is on fire. And this gorgeous bastard behind him isn’t helping any.

Hide whimpers when Kaneki pulls his fingers out, leaving him empty, but he’s quickly cursing again as Kaneki’s tongue licks over his loosened entrance and then pushes in. The ghoul’s silver-painted nails are digging into the softer flesh of Hide’s ass to keep his cheeks spread apart, and Hide’s own fingers twitch, clench, tremors sent up his body as that impossibly _incredible_ tongue thrusts and twists and curls, teasing at his prostate and then pushing down hard.

Hide’s entire body quivers, muscles taut and gasped curses _wrung_ out from him with every thrust of Kaneki’s tongue. He tries to drop his hips, rut into the sheets, but Kaneki is faster, snaking an arm underneath and holding Hide up as he continues fucking his tongue into the human’s ass.

Hide’s cock is _screaming_ for friction and before long, he will be too, yet without having to stammer out a word Kaneki responds, wrapping cool fingers around Hide’s length, positioning his wrist just so and giving a few short pumps for relief. Hide unwinds, just a little, but then Kaneki angles his tongue and Hide’s choking on his own breath, left arm scrabbling out for some hold, _any_ hold, that’s better than clutching at sheets.

There’s a part of him that knows, again, he could come from this alone, right now, but he doesn’t _want_ to. He wants more than this, he wants _more,_ it’s not enough, it’s not enough, _not enough—_

He reaches back, grabs Kaneki’s wrist and somehow garners the strength to move his hand away from his cock, breathing heavily. Kaneki’s other arm is still circled around Hide’s legs, but his face quickly pulls back once Hide seizes his wrist.

“Hide?” his voice is husky, much deeper than usual, and fuck if _that_ isn’t going straight to Hide’s dick. He shivers as Kaneki’s hand rubs soothingly at the small of his back, one of the few uninjured areas there. “Are you alright?”

“I…” Hide struggles, unable to muster more than a strained rasp.

He pushes himself upright, for once doesn’t halt when his back protests its damage. He crawls over to Kaneki, pulls and pushes him until his back is against the headboard and Hide is straddling him. Both men shudder at the friction, Kaneki’s fingers digging into Hide’s hips, Hide’s fingers digging into Kaneki’s shoulders.

“G-gotta kiss you, ‘s all,” Hide mumbles.

He puts his open mouth to his lover’s presses their bodies together, and yes, yes, this is what he’s been wanting, been missing. His pulse against Kaneki’s, hands over skin, fingers tangled into the longer hair atop Kaneki’s head, breathing each other.

“Hide,” Kaneki murmurs.

“Mmm?”

“Your hair’s in my mouth.”

Hide breaks off with a laugh. “Sorry, man,” he says, pulling his hair back so it falls behind his shoulders again. He can’t do anything about the bangs, though. “Guess I should cut it, huh?”

“No,” Kaneki says. His head tips to the side as he looks at Hide, hands slowly stroking along the human’s back, mindful of the bandages. “I like it this way.”

“Aww.”

Hide bumps his forehead against Kaneki’s, smiling widely before the ghoul angles his mouth up into another kiss. He cradles Kaneki’s cheek in his palm as he winds his tongue into his mouth, runs along all the edges until his partner pulls back with a soft gasp, which turns into a shudder as Hide rolls his hips toward him.

“W-want something?” he queries.

Hide lifts his eyebrows. “You tell me,” he murmurs back, lips brushing at the lobe of Kaneki’s ear. He leaves wet kisses over his lover’s neck, sucking temporary marks into his bare shoulder as he rolls his hips lazily. Kaneki moans; a frail, keening sound.

The ghoul moves his hand, now, sliding down the swell of Hide’s ass until still-slicked fingers push in through his entrance and scissor immediately. Hide’s head throws back, a choked noise practically ripping up from his throat.

Kaneki immediately stops moving, his other hand reaching up into Hide’s damp locks, pushing them back from his face. At first Hide thinks this is Kaneki teasing him, messing around again, but one look into the ghoul’s eyes testifies that he isn’t teasing. He’s _concerned._

Hide’s probably in the love with the best kind of person.

“Hide? Are you okay?” Kaneki’s eyes widen, alarm transparent. “You’re… you’re not breathing…”

“I’m good,” Hide wheezes. His toes are curling, fingers digging into the back of Kaneki’s shoulders. “F-feels good, man. _Wow._ ”

“It doesn’t hurt too much, does it?” Kaneki somehow keeps his fingers still, gently pushing Hide off his chest to get a better look at his face. “You keep wincing.”

“ _Ken._ ”

Hides tries, tries to pour all of it, what he wants to feel, to give and tell and share—all into one word, the single syllable of his lover’s name. His fingers play absently with the shorter hair around the nape of Kaneki’s neck, and Kaneki leans into the touch, but his gaze never wavers from Hide’s face.

“I’m okay,” the human murmurs. He nods insistently when the ghoul frowns. “I feel great, Ken, it’s—it’s just intense, is all. Damn, you’re so sweet.” At those words Kaneki blushes, glances away as his lips purse. “I’ll tell you if I need you to stop, okay? But right now you’re being so good to me, it’s…” He laughs breathlessly, rocks just a little. “It’s kinda driving me crazy, actually, s-so if you could just keep…”

Kaneki takes a moment, hardly a moment, to look up into Hide’s eyes and read what he’s asking for. He scissors his fingers again and Hide sucks in a breath, rolls his body back toward the feeling as he grips Kaneki’s shoulder, Kaneki’s neck. Holding so tight hurts his right hand but it’s so, so worth it.

He can’t really explain why he’s smiling, only understands that he wants this, that he wants to keep going. He kisses Kaneki again, grinding his hips down for friction between his and Kaneki’s hard lengths, up to take his fingers in deeper.

He breaks off suddenly, loud gasp turning into a deep moan when Kaneki’s spread him enough to push in a third finger. There’s barely a pause before all three fingers curl, _pushing_ into his prostate, flexing and pushing and spreading until Hide’s too breathless to even whine.

He feels it again, the knowing that he could come from this, _right now,_ but still he wants more, _more,_ he’s been missing it all for too long and somehow he manages to plead through his gasping lips, past curses and stammers of his lover’s name. They’re back to where they started.

“K-Ka—Ken—p-please— _pleasefuckme._ ”

Kaneki doesn’t respond, except for a long, shaky sigh into Hide’s ear, and his fingers spread, leaving the human keening, trembling. He smashes their lips together and rolls back on Kaneki’s fingers, his hands pushing on the ghoul’s chest.

“Ken, please,” he says as he breaks off, sucks and bites at his lover’s neck, taking fistfuls of his short black hair. “I want this, I w-want it so _f-fucking bad,_ baby _please._ ”

“I thought we needed to take this easy, for your sake,” Kaneki says softly, and how the _hell_ can his voice stay so level, so calm, it’s unnatural and it’s only serving to drive Hide further out of his mind.

“Fuck that,” he rasps, moaning as Kaneki’s fingers curl inside him. He’s already getting close, he knows he is, but this has to happen before he tumbles over the edge. It’s been too long, _too long._ “I, I, I want this, Ken, _please._ ”

“Want what?” Kaneki is still looking up at him, and Hide nearly sobs as the fingers are pulled out so the ghoul can use both hands to keep his hips horribly, agonizingly still. Teasing, always _teasing._ “You have to tell me, Hide,” Kaneki murmurs, teeth scraping at the human’s swollen, quivering lips.

“I want you to fuck me,” Hide growls. His body is shaking, hips unmovable, empty empty _empty._ Kaneki’s eyes flash at the aggression in his words, Hide knows he’s aroused by it. “W-we went over this already. I, I want you—you— _iwantyouinsideme. Now. PLEASE._ ”

Kaneki kisses him, only lips, maddeningly chaste. “Alright,” he says gently. One hand leaves his partner’s hips to cup his face, and the ghoul sighs. “Hide… you look so _pretty_ when you beg.”

A broken sound tumbles past Hide’s lips, even he can’t tell what it’s supposed to be, it does strange things to him when Kaneki caters to every little thing he wants. He leans desperately into the ghoul’s touch, digging his fingers into Kaneki’s shoulders as he tries to convey, with his body, the urgency that his fractured voice cannot.

“Just wait a moment,” Kaneki tells him.

He’s pulled up closer to the ghoul’s body, chests together as Hide lets his head loll over Kaneki’s shoulder, panting. Kaneki sits up and leans over to the side, reaching for the dresser. He hears Kaneki open the top drawer again, poke his hand around until he finds a condom. It doesn’t take long.

Kaneki settles down again, and Hide leans back to allow him room for applying the condom. His partner’s still sitting up though he’s left room for lying on his back, rips open the condom packet and then rolls it on.

He glances up into Hide’s fixated stare before lifting the other man by his hips and slowly settling him down, leans back until he’s flat on the sheets, knees raised and legs apart. Kaneki bottoms out and Hide stops breathing, nails tearing over his own thighs as they turn into barely trembling fists. Kaneki notices immediately and his head snaps up, hands reaching to brush Hide’s hair back from his face as he tries to get a better look at him.

“Does it hurt?”

“F-fuck,” Hide whimpers, and wishes his voice wouldn’t crack so much. “Fuck, shit, _yes it hurts just_ —just—d-don’t move for a, a second. I’ll be okay. ‘S what I get for doing this when I’m so close. I’ll be okay.”

“You’re close?”

“Y-yeah.”

“ _Oh._ ”

Kaneki waits, gauging his partner’s every reaction. Hide’s fingers slowly ease out of their fisted forms, splay over Kaneki’s stomach, his breathing evens out though it is still fast. He closes his eyes and exhales, feels Kaneki’s pulse drumming against his palms, feels his hands over his thighs and hips, feels _him_ inside, filling up just right and perfect like he always does.

“So good,” he breathes, almost without noticing.

“Is it alright for me to move?” Kaneki asks. His voice is at its gentlest now; the teasing from before is over. Now they just take care of each other.

Hide rolls his hips slowly, not missing the quiet gasp it elicits from his partner. He cracks a smile.

“Not just yet,” he says, and lifts himself up on his knees before dropping down again.

It’s the moment before the drop that’s the worst, near empty before he’s full up again. Kaneki gasps louder this time, his nails scraping over Hide’s thighs and yes, _yes_ he wants that to leave a mark, he wants every centimeter of his body to scream that he’s owned by this man, that he owns this man, that they adore and treasure and _love_ each other and life could not possibly be better.

Hide rides him, as hard as his injured body will allow, and it is so _satisfying,_ so _pleasing_ to watch Kaneki grasping at the sheets as his chest _quivers_ with unsteady breaths, his eyes repeatedly rolling shut only to open again, as if the need to just _watch_ Hide take him in far outweighs the need to lose himself in the heat of his partner’s body.

He’s feeling good, Hide can tell. He’s just barely keeping his hips still, restraining his obvious desire to respond in force, to slam himself further up into Hide’s body. His back is arching off the bed, sweat dripping off his body and into the sheets.

“Ken, Ken, you feel _amazing,_ ” Hide praises, grinding _hard_ before lifting himself again. “Fill me up so good—” Drops, a gasp bordering on a cry from Kaneki. “Al-always hit me _just right_ —” Again, again, until Kaneki is scrabbling and there are spasms ripping up his own back. “An’—and you don’t have to— _haaa_ —t’do a thing.”

Kaneki moans deep, throat working, fisting the sheets as his body shakes. Hide is practically slamming himself onto his lover’s cock by now, his own length bouncing against his stomach with every movement, aching _fantastically_ and slick with precome. He’s barely able to talk anymore, fitting a few filthy words between each drop and grind of his hips.

“Y’just—watch me—like this— _f-fucking myself_ —r-right on—onto _your body_

—an’ it’s—perfect, you’re— _perfect, fuck_ —”

Kaneki’s mouth is hanging open, _keening_ as every muscle in his body quivers, and finally his restraint snaps, his hands are on Hide’s body, pulling him down as he snaps his hips back up into him. He’s got a rhythm set almost without any effort, fucking _pounding_ his cock up into Hide’s ass.

Hide’s head falls back, blunt nails scratching over Kaneki’s skin, praises flowing without restraint, giving Kaneki exactly what he wants as his lover does the same.

“Y- _yes,_ baby, that’s it, fuck, _fuck,_ ” he babbles, falling readily to his partner’s strength, reveling in it. “Sh- _shit,_ I’m close, I—”

His voice breaks but he knows he’s still going, still praising his lover and his body and all the fucking _incredible_ things he can do. He’s keeping himself braced on the bed, fisting the sheets like his partner was just moments before, and he’s gasping, _gasping_ because that’s all he knows to do anymore.

He drags his gaze up to Kaneki’s face. The ghoul’s kakugan is blazing without either of them prompting it. It’s beautiful and startling and fucking sensuous, and its unbidden presence can only mean that Kaneki is getting close too, which also means…

Hide drops his hands behind Kaneki’s waist, tracing along to the small of his back until he finds it, the opening slits of the ghoul’s kakuhou. It seems to breathe with him, shuddering open and closed, and Hide remembers to measure the pace before pushing his fingers in.

The contact drags a strangled noise out from Kaneki’s throat, and he leans back into Hide’s fingers, taking them deeper into barely dormant muscle. It’s tight and _hot,_ sliding and grinding over Hide’s skin with liquid smoothness and scaly hardness all at once.

Kaneki’s reaction is strong, a wanton moan tearing out before desire and arousal seem to _possess_ him, his fingers digging hard enough to bruise Hide’s hips as he drags him down on top, fucks up into him with something like fury but it’s very, very different. His teeth are bared and kakugan _burning_ into Hide’s gaze, and the human stares back with the incredible knowledge that he— _he_ is the one responsible for this.

His mouth is hanging loose by now, praises falling with each thrust, and he pushes his fingers in deeper and curls them to Kaneki’s choking cry. His lover responds with equal fervor, until they are both shaking and gasping for air, Hide’s chest flushed deep red while Kaneki’s is dripping sweat.

Hide is still talking but he doesn’t even know what he’s _saying_ anymore, probably a string of curses and pleas of his lover’s name. The heat is building through his body, veins aflame with want and passion and the need to keep getting _closer_ and oh, Kaneki understands. Kaneki wants it too, taking them there, his control readily crumbling with each quiet, ragged moan. Hide’s words push him on, he knows; praises whispered and curses gasped.

“Hi- _Hide, I’m_ —”

This is how they go. They push and pull each other on, give and take and _give._ It’s sweat and shared breath, shared pleasure, curling fingers and painted nails scratching into soft skin, hips grinding and thrusting. It’s strange, impossible, and messy and perfect and _theirs._

“K-Ken, I—I—” Hide is stammering, babbling, _shaking_ as he arches down toward Kaneki, pushing his fingers in deep and hard as his partner asks for. “ _A-ahhhh, fuck,_ I’m close—”

“Th-that’s it,” Kaneki murmurs, a trembling hand caressing his partner’s sweaty cheek. His rhythm is falling apart, shuddering underneath Hide’s body. “That’s it, darling, come for me. It’s alright, shhh, you can let go now. C-come on, baby, come so _pretty_ —”

Hide doesn’t mean to wail but he _does,_ his back arching as his orgasm hits and he releases, up his body, across Kaneki’s, and his straining fingers and _trembling_ body soon have his lover tumbling after, thrusting one last time before falling apart entirely. He cries out as the folds of his kakuhou fold tight around Hide’s fingers, and the human’s voice returns as Kaneki comes inside of him, surges up to twist his tongue into Hide’s mouth until both of their orgasms have been spent.

They collapse back onto the bed, Hide slowly pulling himself off Kaneki’s softened cock and out of his kakuhou before he falls limp across the ghoul, burying his face in the other man’s shoulder. Kaneki sighs, settling his hands in Hide’s hair.

They don’t try to speak, just breathing, eyes closed as they feel their pulses drumming against each other. Some part of Hide is aware that his legs are dripping with come and lube, their sheets are dirtied and bodies sticky with fluids, and yeah, it’s pretty gross. But more than that, he’s content, and really, really doesn’t want to move.

“Love you,” he mumbles, and Kaneki hums fondly in reply.

\---

Hide must have dozed off at some point, because next thing he knows, he’s sitting on a plastic stool in the shower as Kaneki turns the hot water on. The bandages have been removed, probably compromised by all the sweating earlier. That’s what usually happens. Kaneki must have carried him here to the bathroom sometime afterward.

“You don’t usually let me fall asleep,” Hide says, blinking owlishly up at his boyfriend. “Not before cleanup, anyway.”

Kaneki cranes his neck to look over his shoulder at Hide, squinting a little as the spray splashes up toward his face. Were he not so exhausted and sluggishly befuddled, Hide would definitely be appreciating the view more. As is, he only stares at Kaneki’s ass for a few moments before his vision starts blurring out again.

“You needed the rest,” Kaneki explains, giving his partner an apologetic look. “I was too rough with you. Sorry.”

“Felt good to me, man,” Hide tells him. Purses his lips then, lets his head loll to the side. “Kinda rushed, though? I could’ve come at least twice tonight. Four, tops. Hey, remember that time when we—”

“Hide.” Kaneki looks over his shoulder again, arching an eyebrow down at his boyfriend. It’s an almost chastising stare. “Don’t get any more ideas; your body needs this time to heal. We are cleaning up, and then we are going to sleep.”

“Together?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“I can live with that.” Hide smiles a little, slowly leaning back on the stool as his bare toes play at the rough texture of the shower mat. “Heh. I actually _am_ living with that.”

Kaneki shakes his head with a faintly exasperated sigh, but Hide knows the back turned to him is concealing a smile. He can tell from the lightness of his partner’s movements, the barely audible tune he hums as he rinses out his hair.

It’s nice, knowing someone this well. Makes everything feel that much more special.

Hide stays perched on the stool, sleepily watching as Kaneki cleans up. It’s a little rule of theirs that he takes care of himself first, it’s part of the injury routine and they’ve learned it works best. Just as Hide starts nodding off again, his boyfriend brings his attentions to him.

The shower’s stream has been turned down to a much gentler spray than usual, and Kaneki takes the utmost care as he uses a warm cloth to clean over the damaged skin on Hide’s back. It hurts but not badly, he even breathes more softly as he stands closer. Hide smiles again, peering out of the corner of his eye. Dear, dear Kaneki. He really is good at taking care of people.

Hide only needs a hand up to stand and finish cleaning up by himself. Kaneki sits on the stool now, watching him, just in case he needs the extra help. Hide cracks a yawn as he moves through the routine slowly, body stiff but manner relaxed. It’s a funny sort of contrast.

Something catches his eye, and he leans across to tug lightly at a soggy clump of Kaneki’s hair. “Your hair’s growing back out,” he observes. “Gonna cut it again?”

“Soon,” Kaneki nods. “But I’m not shaving the sides until the weather gets warmer.” He looks up at Hide for a moment, eyebrows lifting in question. “Are you done?”

“Yup,” Hide replies. Yawns again, turns to close the hot and cold waters off.

Kaneki smiles briefly before stepping out of the shower into the chillier, steamy bathroom. He pulls a towel across his shoulders, dries off his face before shaking his head this way and that, like some shaggy pup after a swim, and he quickly reaches out a steadying hand when Hide decides to follow.

The human mentally curses his wobbly legs before accepting a towel from his boyfriend, pats his own face dry before bending over to twist the fabric around his head and hair. After he straightens up, Kaneki helps him finish drying off, and the sting of disinfectant afterward is enough to jolt him awake again. Kaneki is still moving quick and gentle, of course, and he has Hide bandaged up again almost before he has time to blink.

Granted, it’s taking Hide a very long time to blink right now.

Kaneki has brought pajamas for both of them, though Hide won’t be bothered with more than the comfortable yellow-and-green striped pants he likes best. The towels are left to hang from rungs and over the top of the shower door. Hide manages to hold his boyfriend still long enough for a kiss, pressing their foreheads together.

“Next time, I’m taking care of you,” he promises.

“Next time, you’re not coming home held together by stiches and adhesive bandaging,” Kaneki snips back.

Hide shrugs. “Touché.” He kisses Kaneki again before wheeling his boyfriend around and marching them both out of the bathroom. “Alright, now for the sheets and then we can go to bed…”

“Already done,” Kaneki informs him. Hide blinks up at him in surprise. “I changed the sheets out for new ones, the soiled things are already washing. I took care of it while you were still asleep in the shower.”

“How in the hell are you so active post-coital,” Hide wonders, letting his head thump down onto Kaneki’s shoulder blades. “C’mon, man, don’t just go and do everything by yourself.”

“I said I was going to take care of you,” Kaneki reminds. “You’re only on your fourth day of recovery, even with whatever strange experimental medicine the CCG is giving you these days.”

Hide grumbles, only slightly irritated by his boyfriend’s actions. He’s too sleepy at this point to argue about dividing housework evenly. He’s had sex and cuddles and a nap and now a shower, and he just wants to cuddle again until they both fall asleep. It’s a good way to finish the night. Or morning. Whichever it is by now.

He sighs loudly, head still resting on the back of his boyfriend’s shoulder. “Ka~ne~ki~.”

“Yes?”

“Let’s go to bed.”

Kaneki angles his head around to drop a light kiss on his partner’s forehead. “Alright,” he murmurs. His eyes have that familiar, fond look in them—one that Hide has gotten to treasure for a quite a while now, and honestly, he’s not going to get tired of it. Ever.

They both relax and breathe in, set their feet towards their bedroom. If Hide’s step is still unsteady, and if Kaneki leans a little closer for support, they don’t say. They don’t have to, to know these things.

It really is nice to know someone so well.

Kaneki’s phone is still playing smooth jazz as they return, and he lets it be, watching as Hide gets into bed first and then follows after him. Hide pulls his partner closer, lying on his uninjured side until he can roll onto his stomach, sprawled partly over Kaneki’s chest. It’s stable and soft and warm, and he snuggles in closer, a contented smile spreading over his face.

Clingy? Eh, that’s okay. Kaneki is petting his hair, and if Hide glances up he can just see the curve of his boyfriend’s smile.

“I missed you,” he says suddenly.

Kaneki freezes for a second, opens his eyes to look down at Hide in quiet bewilderment. “Missed me?” he repeats.

“Yeah,” Hide says. His left hand threads through Kaneki’s hair, slowly drying. “It’s been, what, three months since Shiro-san showed up? You’re always busy with studies and that sociology class you’re teaching, and I’m always busy with work, which is only gonna get worse once spring hits…

“It’s like we never get we never get to see each other anymore,” he muses, and he tries not to let on just how much it’s been bothering him. How frustrating it is to come home and Kaneki isn’t here, or Kaneki is too busy. Or it isn’t Kaneki at all. “Especially with Shiro-san in the apartment. Don’t get me wrong, I love the guy! But… yeah. I’ve missed you.”

“Hide…” Kaneki’s voice is so _soft_ with affection, Hide thinks he just might swallow a pillow. Or three.

He settles for biting his lip and pulling the blankets up past his head, burrowing under a little. He feels Kaneki’s laugh, an amused pat on the head through the blankets. Then the other man stills.

“Hide?”

“Yeah?” Hide lifts his head, an even lazier gesture now with the blankets weighing on his head.

“I’m sorry.” Kaneki’s movements are more hesitant now, as if he needs to think about what he’s doing. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you earlier. You’re only doing your job, trying to protect people—it’s why you started, in the first place. But I still…”

His voice trails off. Hide peels the blankets back from his head, meeting his partner’s troubled gaze. Kaneki looks away, staring up at the ceiling. Hide intertwines the fingers of his left hand with Kaneki’s right, and the ghoul’s grip tightens in response.

“I still get so scared,” he confesses in a whisper. “Every time you come home, hurt like this, and knowing that it was even worse just a few days before. What if… what if someday you don’t…? There are times… there are a lot of times when I wish you weren’t so protective of others. That you would look out for yourself more often.”

“I’m sorry,” Hide murmurs.

“I still shouldn’t have yelled.” Kaneki closes his eyes, releases a long sigh. “It wasn’t right.”

“I’m sorry,” Hide says again. His thumb strokes slowly over Kaneki’s fingers. “I, I really hate making you worry like this. Scaring you. I’ll try to be more careful, really.”

“But you won’t stop.” Kaneki’s lips are pressed into a thin line. Hide finds himself tracking every movement in his partner’s face, the creases and lines, the flicker of his eyes and occasional gnaw of his lip.

“I don’t think I _can,_ ” Hide replies. Because if he could, he would’ve quit the CCG a long time ago, no hesitations. “I mean, could you? If you had the power to help someone, protect someone, could you ever stop?”

Kaneki doesn’t say anything for a moment. Sighs, turning his eyes back up to the ceiling again as he gnaws at his lip. His body is tense, gripping Hide’s hand just a little too tight. Hide doesn’t protest, though, prefers to wait and see.

“You’re going to get yourself killed one of these days.”

“Probably,” Hide concedes. “But hey, I’ve got Amon-san and Akira-san and the Quinx. And you. I don’t think my boneheadedness is gonna kill me for a while yet, not with all of you guys around.”

“That’s not much of a guarantee,” Kaneki mutters. He’s frowning, looking back at Hide now. “It’s easy for an investigation to go wrong, and before you know it—”

“Hey.” Hide fumbles before he can place the fingers of his other hand over Kaneki’s mouth, gently silencing him. “Leave that to me, ‘kay? There’s no point in worrying about all the might-bes in the world. You get there when—or if—you get there.”

“…I know.”

It’s not much of an answer, but Hide will take it. He props himself up on his forearms, leans forward until his nose bumps against Kaneki’s.

“Hey, guess what.”

Kaneki’s brow furrows slightly. “What?”

Hide leans forward a little more, leaves a light kiss on Kaneki’s lips, another on his nose, two more over his eyes. “Love you,” he says, smiling, and then moves back to settle down on his boyfriend’s chest again. “Now let’s go to sleep.”

“Love you, too,” Kaneki murmurs back.

He pulls the blankets up, just over Hide’s shoulders, and Hide hums, smiles as he lets his eyes close again. It’s comfortable here with Kaneki, warm and safe and just right. His hands are light over Hide’s skin and he relaxes into the other man’s body, more than willing to fall asleep right here.

The storm is still going, he notices. Wind and rain, going at it like cats and dogs. Like humans and ghouls. But maybe Hide doesn’t mind it so much; maybe for the moment, he doesn’t feel that winter is all that bad. Because tonight it means that he gets to be here.

And here, with Kaneki, is a very good place to be.

\---

Hide wakes up much sooner than he had anticipated. He’s still on top of Kaneki’s chest, mouth open and a little bit of drool on his boyfriend’s shirt as he makes a groggy (and reluctant) return to consciousness. Kaneki is snoring lightly, he always snores when he’s on his back, and his fingers are still interlaced with Hide’s. The other hand has made its way to his ass, which prompts a quiet laugh from Hide.

Kaneki’s breath ruffles his hair (finally dry, probably a tangled mess), tickles his forehead. It’s warm, all of him is, and it’s very, very cozy. His lover looks so serene when he sleeps, Hide muses—it’s a welcome sight after everything they’ve managed to make it through.

The first thing Hide notices beyond his partner is that the wind has finally died down. It’s still pouring, however, and that only seems to raise more of a racket as he wakes up. Also, Hide is sore as hell and _damn it,_ this is why he woke up. Why didn’t he think to put painkillers inside the bedside dresser. Why does he never think to do that. The human groans in frustration (and severe achiness), and once he starts rolling over to get off the bed, Kaneki begins to wake up.

“Wha…” he slurs, reaching over to catch Hide’s wrist after he’s sat up. “Where’re you going? What’s wrong?”

“Sore,” Hide tells him, speaking even though wow, everything hurts really right now. Maybe Kaneki had been right about that whole being too rough thing. “Gonna get some painkillers. Go back to sleep, babe.”

Kaneki nods drowsily and lets his hand fall slack on top of the blankets. Before long his eyes are closed, breath deepening as he falls back into unconsciousness. Hide spends a few moments just looking at him, and man, sometimes he just _remembers_ how much he loves this boy. The amount of affection he garners just by being is ridiculous and wonderful.

Hide slowly makes his way off the bed and up onto his feet. He shakes his head, yawning and grumbling a little, stretches and then immediately regrets it. He swears under his breath, and a few cringes later he’s finally trudging out of the bedroom.

He curses again when he realizes that he forgot his phone, and fumbles through the kitchen until he finds the light and nearly blinds himself. Squints through the horrifying brightness and feels his way along the cluttered counter until he approaches his destination.

Vitamins and painkillers—and Kaneki’s coffee additives that are definitely _not_ sugar cubes—are kept in the skinny cabinet by the fridge, along with Hide’s small collection of teas. The cabinet to its right has all their glasses, mugs, plates and bowls. Hide moves even more slowly than usual, hoping to avoid a glass slipping through his fingers and the resulting shatter waking—

Huh. Is Shiro back yet? Hide shrugs before focusing on what he’s doing, taking a case of Eve A and setting it on the counter before reaching into the other cabinet to grab a glass.

“You’re not usually up this late.”

“AH!!”

Hide jumps, yelling before he claps a hand over his mouth, and the glass drops—to be caught by Shiro. Hide releases a shaky breath as he turns back to face the ghoul, who is, of course, standing very close. In pajamas. With drippy I-survived-the-weather hair.

“Jeez, man,” Hide breathes, shoulders sagging as he leans back against the counter. “You scared me.”

“Sorry.” Shiro’s eyes are inquisitive, almost cautious as they look over Hide’s features, taking in the multiple bandages. He takes a step back, allowing the human more room, and his brow creases in concern. “How… how are you feeling?”

“Sore as hell, actually,” Hide grunts. “Came back here for painkillers.” He takes the glass from Shiro’s hand and shuffles over to the sink, filling it with water before throwing back a few more Eve A than is probably healthy.

“Painkillers?” Shiro is puzzled by the word; he is by a lot of things. It’s gotta be frustrating, Hide thinks, to exist as an adult in a world where you don’t know how anything works.

“It’s a drug for dealing with pain,” Hide explains. Tucks the packet back into the box before turning away from Shiro, putting it away in the cabinet. “Headaches, cramps, swelling, allergies, aching joints—body trauma in general, I guess.”

He glances over at Shiro as he leaves the glass in the sink, is startled when the ghoul stares back with _intense_ concern. “Hey, hey, don’t worry about me. I mean, I’m cranky and sore, but I’m not dead.”

It’s the wrong thing to say. If anything, Shiro looks even more distressed now—something strange enters his eyes, something solemn and hurt and _haunted,_ and his stare doesn’t waver from Hide’s face for a second as he murmurs a response, fists held stiff by his sides.

“Don’t say things like that. Please.” His eyes are wide and alert, with a fear Hide has never seen before. “ _Never_ say anything like that.”

“I’m sorry.” Hide’s whisper cracks, and he swallows. “I’m sorry, Shiro-san.”

The ghoul turns away sharply, shoulders hunched as he walks back into the living room. For some reason, Hide follows him, watches as the ghoul moves back onto the unfolded futon, sitting up stiff and straight. Hide knows his body will give him hell for the movement, but still he asks.

“Mind if I join you?”

“It’s your futon,” Shiro answers bluntly. When Hide doesn’t move, waiting for permission, he frowns and gestures to a space next to him. Not too close. Not quite the end of the futon either.

Hide lowers himself to the edge of the futon slowly, taking some care as he sits down. He knows Shiro is watching him, he can see the ghoul from the corner of his eye. Once settled, Hide turns his head to meet his stare.

“Well?”

Hide nods to the scarf (his) and coat (Kaneki’s) hanging on the rack by the hallway. “You find a good place to wait out the storm?” he asks. The rain seems to increase its volume then, just to make a point. “Or at least, the worst of it. That wind was a nightmare, huh.”

“I found a place,” Shiro tells him, quiet and blunt like usual. His eyes shift as he speaks, however, and he rubs at his chin. There’s more to it than what he’s saying, but Hide figures he can leave it be. That he _should_ let it be.

“Thanks, by the way.”

Shiro gives him a confused look, apparently baffled by the concept of gratitude. Hide smiles at him, scoots a little closer though his hips, back, and butt all have an issue with that. Shiro doesn’t object to the proximity, watching Hide as he waits for an explanation. A lot of their conversations tend to involve that.

“For letting me and Kaneki have some private time,” the human continues. “We really appreciate it. Though…” His head tilts as he looks at the ghoul thoughtfully. “Pretty obvious that you needed some personal time, too. Got a lot on your mind lately?”

“Yes,” Shiro replies. He sighs then, quietly.

“Did it help to get out of the apartment for the day?” Hide asks. “Less weighing on you?”

“Yes. And no.” Shiro frowns, puzzling over something unknown. “It’s… complicated. A lot of things are, it seems.”

“Yeah, that’s life for you.” Hide sighs loudly, prompting an odd look from Shiro, and he swings his legs hanging over the edge of the futon before remembering, once again, that doing those things actually really hurts. “But sometimes it’s all just really, really simple. So simple you miss it.”

He scrutinizes the ghoul again, taking in angular features and shadowed eyes. But there’s more than what there had been last time Hide saw him. Something’s changed, something’s been added. He nods thoughtfully.

“You look better,” he tells the ghoul, and he can tell that Shiro is surprised by the comment. “Feeling that way, too?”

“I suppose,” Shiro mutters. He shakes his head, frowns again as his pale fingers curl in the blankets. His nails are black, Hide knows, but not from any paint. “It is… hard to tell.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

“No.”

“Okay,” Hide replies. He smiles at him, hopes that his sincerity is conveyed. “Well, whenever you feel ready, I’m here to listen. Kaneki is, too. Just let us know.”

Shiro’s mouth opens, as if he’s about to say something, but all he manages is a tight “thank you” before turning his face away, seeming to curl in on himself. He’s somewhere else by now, flinches at the gentle touch of Hide’s hand on his shoulder.

“I would like to be alone now, Nagachika,” he says softly. Still doesn’t look back at him.

Hide nods, murmurs a low affirmative before hauling himself back up to his feet. There’s a lot of grimacing that goes into the effort, gritted teeth and held breath to keep any grunt or curse from escaping. Once he’s standing, he looks back over to Shiro. The ghoul hasn’t turned around since asking him to leave, but Hide can tell that he’s listening.

“Get some rest, Shiro-san,” Hide tells him. “I’ll see you later in the morning.”

“See you,” Shiro echoes, sounding distant.

Hide wishes he could know what the ghoul is thinking, that there could be some way for him to help. But Shiro has a lot to think about, whatever it may be, and it’s up to him how he sorts it out. Hide and Kaneki can only be there for support when he decides to reach for it.

He makes his way out of the living room, stopping to turn off the kitchen light. He glances back, sees the white outline of Shiro’s head contrasting the darkness of the rest of the room, and then continues on.

It’s slow, shuffling progress, and Hide groans as he crawls back onto the bed, burrowing under the blankets until he can flop on top of Kaneki’s chest. His boyfriend blinks up at him owlishly before pressing a sleepy kiss to Hide’s forehead and then drifting away.

The painkillers do their job. It isn’t much longer before Hide fades into unconsciousness as well.

The storm is still going.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> writing for hide is one of the hardest things i have ever done, because how am I supposed to get anything done when this boy just loves kaneki sO MUCH IT'S /UNBEARABLE./
> 
> next chapter we'll be seeing what shiro has gotten up to...


	3. Day Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter: shiro has his doubts, especially about the good things. he needs an escape.
> 
> Timeline: mid-january of '15 (same day as ch02)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (ch02 finally has its companion, after twelve years waiting in azkaban)
> 
> oh god. i am so, so sorry. life and my creative drive altogether dropped into a hellhole for most of the year, but! working my way out, getting back into the groove of things. thanks for hanging in there everybody, you are all far too lovely for me. ;A;
> 
> shiro is a very damaged ghoul with a lot of issues to work through, so this chapter has no sexual content. tw through the chapter for vivid nightmares, torture, and hearing voices.

_It’s in his head **it’s in his head** crawling **squirming** burrowing through grey matter and flesh it’s in his head **he can’t stop laughing laughing laughing** his fingers are gone **legs legs where are his legs** everything’s burning **blood in his mouth** he can’t stop laughing **screaming** help help **h e l p—**_ >

\---

Shiro wakes in a cold sweat, breath ragged in his throat as his chest heaves. His fingers clench the sheets underneath, eyes darting frantically as he keeps himself still _he has to stay still stay quiet._ Fear locks the air inside his lungs, shakes his body in near silence.

He dares to glance down, finally, counts each finger he can see. All ten are there. There’s no stench of blood here, no cuffs chafing his wrists and ankles down to the bone, no chair, no table of tools or bench laid out with his fingers and toes. Just _there._ No real reason for it.

He knows where he is now. Curled in tightly on his side, on an unfolded futon, inside a Tokyo apartment. Nagachika and Kaneki’s home. Shiro looks again and his wrists and ankles are still bare, whole, not a scar or raw wound to be seen. The only table is a glass-topped wooden one at the center of the living room. He smells coffee on the air.

He’s safe.

Not that he deserves to be.

Shiro takes a few breaths, slowly uncurls. His joints are stiff—he grimaces as he sits up. More breaths. Two fistfuls of sheets, eyes stretched wide to stare fixedly at the far wall. The ghoul exhales slowly, shivering.

“Fuck,” he whispers. Fuck, the nightmares again.

He moves the blankets aside. Settles his uncovered feet on the thick living room rug, cool and soft. It’s cold outside of the futon but Shiro knows how to work the thermostat. He’s not totally incompetent at this human world stuff.

He’s calmer now. Casts a cautious look about before yawning, baring his teeth as he stretches his limbs out, then rubs crust from his eyes. He leaves the futon behind and moves quietly to where the thermostat controls are. Having spent nearly every day here in the apartment, for months now, Shiro has memorized the location of each squeaky floorboard and even _which_ part of the board is squeaky.

It’s a stupid accomplishment, but one he’s still proud of.

The thermostat is simple enough—push the button pointing up to increase the heat, the button pointing down to decrease it. Shiro presses the up button until the unit’s tiny monitor shows the readout Nagachika told him was best, then heads back to the futon. He remains sitting up this time, blankets wrapped around him. There’s some kinda bug that does this, he thinks.

He hates bugs.

The ghoul scowls, shaking his head a bit as he turns a glare to the kitchen only a dozen steps away. Normally, Nagachika would’ve woken him up long before now. The human comes humming into the kitchen every damn morning at five o’clock, cooking an egg and then going out for a run or doing crunches and pushups on the kitchen tiles.

Shiro hates being woken up so early, before the sun’s even come up, but hell, it’s better than letting the nightmares run their course.

Nagachika hasn’t been here to wake him up for three mornings now. Shiro remembers exactly where he was when Kaneki had gotten the call—standing out on the balcony, suddenly feeling much colder as he heard the half-ghoul’s partner say that he had been injured and couldn’t come home. The raw terror on Kaneki’s face was something new, the way he clutched the counter’s edge.

Sure, the half-ghoul had seemed calmer by the time the phone call ended, explaining to Shiro what had happened, but since then he’s been acting differently. He studies and works just the same, but now it’s with hardly a word spoken. Even his movements are quieter. Subdued.

Is this the amount of influence Nagachika has on him? Shiro finds it disturbing. Lovers are disturbing. Their reliance on one another, their explicit trust in every single fucking action… it’s as if each wall they have falls open to the other’s key. Shiro can’t even imagine them as being two separate halves, they’re so mixed up.

_It’s disturbing **disgusting filthy** why can’t he—_

Shiro hisses, flinching as he ducks his head into his hands, tangles fingers and pulls on his hair. Stay grounded _stay grounded_ he’s awake now. No voices. No noise. No shit for him to deal with. _Stay quiet **stay quiet** he means it **he really does.**_

Damn it. This is exhausting.

Shiro’s head snaps back up, pulling away from his fingers as his body tenses in wariness—he hears movement. The blankets are discarded and the ghoul is dressed and up on his feet by the time Kaneki trudges in, his hair damp from a shower and messenger bag hanging from his shoulder. It’s hard to tell if his eyes are open at all, or if he’s somehow navigating through the kitchen with just his nose.

There is a moment when the half-ghoul pauses, nodding a silent greeting to Shiro. He’s not surprised, of course, since he and Nagachika have yet to catch him asleep. Kaneki leaves his bag on the island counter, moving slowly through his morning routine. Kettle on the stove, turn stove on, prepare coffee grounds, wait for the water to heat up.

A thermos and a cup are placed on the island counter, same as every morning. The only exception was Shiro’s first day here, and since then Kaneki has always set out that extra cup for him. It bothers him, honestly, how someone as barely conscious as Kaneki changes his daily routine to accommodate an outsider. Nagachika still tries to get him to come along for his morning runs.

Something has got to be wrong with these two. Humans are not accepting. Ghouls are not kind. It goes against the natures of both species, and that they have for some unfathomable reason chosen to _live together_ … it’s unnatural. Really. Fucking. Unnatural.

Shiro does realize the hypocrisy of his own decision to stay here. It’s not as if there was anything natural about him to begin with.

The ghoul makes his way over to the island counter, sitting up on one of the three stools there before settling his forearms on the cool surface. He watches Kaneki work, brewing the coffee with his typical care. The half-ghoul’s movements are measured and silent, broken only by breathing and an occasional clink of glass. It’s almost mesmerizing.

He had thought things would change. With Nagachika gone from the apartment, there’s no need for Kaneki to restrain himself. It wouldn’t take much—a flash of kakugan, angrily bared teeth to confirm that Shiro has never been forgiven for his assault three months ago and never will be. To confirm that he isn’t welcome here. It’s only a matter of time, after all. Ghouls only behave kindly when they intend to take something from you later. Humans are even worse. And Kaneki is some horrific combination of the two.

But… he hasn’t said anything. The half-ghoul spends his time looking over student assignments, or working on his own. He drags himself out of bed every morning at six o’clock to shower and make coffee for two. Although he hardly speaks lately, he still treats Shiro with the same baffling, _disturbing_ kindness. It’s as if Nagachika isn’t absent at all.

It puts him on edge. This kindhearted… _thing_ is somehow the most intimidating opponent Shiro has ever faced, which is stupid, and he is _living with them._ He’s afraid of Kaneki. And it’s no reasonable fear, either. He beat the shit out of this half-ghoul, yet he still goes about his days with an unsettling serenity.

He’s strong enough to be peaceful. Somehow.

Does that make him stronger than Shiro?

“Here you go.”

Shiro blinks across at Kaneki before remembering why he’s sitting at the counter. With a nod he accepts the steaming cup of coffee from the half-ghoul’s hands, blowing some of the heat away before taking a sip. It’s bitter and strong, Kaneki’s morning coffees always are. Plenty refreshing.

The rest of the coffee goes into a thermos, which Kaneki will be taking to work. Kamii University, where he both studies and teaches. Nagachika has shown Shiro some pictures of the campus.

Kaneki opens his messenger bag to tuck the thermos inside, glances Shiro’s way after securing the clasps again.

“Is it good?”

Shiro nods. “Mm.”

The half-ghoul smiles a little, softening even more. Shiro’s skin crawls. “I’m glad,” Kaneki says, and takes the next several minutes to clean up the kitchen before picking up his bag again. “Well… I’ll see you later, Shiro-san.”

“Mm.”

Kaneki nods before turning away, walking over to the entryway. The bag is set on the floor as he pulls on a pair of short boots, a heavy coat, then a dark blue scarf with thin tassels and matching gloves. The half-ghoul picks up his messenger bag once again and hangs it across his shoulders, running his thumb under the strap.

Shiro isn’t sure why he’s watching him, why he chose to leave the hot coffee on the counter in favor of standing at the entryway, seeing Kaneki off. He never sees him off. It’s an affectionate gesture, the sort of thing Nagachika would do.

Except, Nagachika isn’t here to do it.

Kaneki has been staring down at his hand for a while now, worrying at the seams of his knit gloves. He looks exhausted—eyes bloodshot, dark bags underneath, heaviness even in his smallest gestures. Shiro doesn’t know what the half-ghoul is thinking, but there’s a smile on his face, a sad sort of smile. Those tired eyes glance over at him through their corners.

“It’s alright to admit it, you know,” the half-ghoul tells him. “That you’re worried about Hide.”

Something twists up in Shiro’s chest, painfully taut. He nearly takes a step back.

“Kissing once doesn’t give me some profound tie to either of you,” he states, agitatedly rubbing a thumb over his chin. His shoulders are tense. “Nagachika’s just some human. You’re just… some freak.”

Kaneki doesn’t say anything. He just smiles again, hurt plastered across his face, and looks away. He’s so pathetically small. How could Shiro have been made from something like this?

“Well, you’re not wrong,” Kaneki murmurs. “Heaven knows I understand how disturbing my existence is. Shiro-san…”

He takes a step forward, and Shiro takes an instinctive step back, cursing himself as he does so. Intimidated by a damned weakling. The half-ghoul doesn’t try to advance any further, at least, sighing as he seems to shrink even more.

“Us being ghouls with the same kagune, I…” He hesitates, but only briefly. “I can only imagine how you feel about me. Trust must seem impossible. I understand that. But you and Hide… there’s no need to pretend that it isn’t different with the two of you. I can tell how much you care about him.” His eyes seem to sharpen. “You allow yourself to care about him.”

_Allow he doesn’t allow **cannot ever allow** no **no** that isn’t **he doesn’t care** care he wishes he could **he can’t** he can’t **there will be punishment—**_

“I’m not sure why we bother lying about it,” Kaneki continues. He isn’t bothered by the noise _lucky lucky **envy feels like poison.**_ “We both can smell each other’s anxiety, and we both know it’s because of Hide. He’s, he’s been hurt badly, after all, and that’s… frightening.”

Shiro starts, meeting the half-ghoul’s oppressively kind stare. “You admit that you’re afraid?”

“Of course I’m afraid,” Kaneki answers quietly. His voice has never risen from the start, yet the noise still doesn’t drown it out. How? “Hide’s been tempting fate for more than five years now. This is the eighth time he’s been badly injured, but only the third time he’s been able to call me on his own. Of _course_ I am afraid.”

Kaneki’s gaze turns away from him, fixing on the floor, and Shiro realizes that the half-ghoul is trembling.

“He’s my closest friend,” he murmurs. “He’s the only person who’s stayed with me all this time. Even after I was turned into a ghoul… he didn’t hesitate. I can’t imagine life without him, Shiro-san. I don’t want to imagine.”

“He matters to you,” Shiro says. The words cut at his throat, hurt deep in his chest. He feels like he’s lost something.

“Very much.” Kaneki looks back to him. “And you matter to him. To both of us.”

_Lies **lies** all lies **he wants to deceive—**_

Shiro doesn’t respond to Kaneki, dropping his hands into his pockets and turning away. He hears the half-ghoul turn away also, walking to the door. It unlocks, but doesn’t open.

“You know…”

Shiro pauses, looks over his shoulder to see Kaneki doing the same. The half-ghoul has a thoughtful look on his face.

“It was Hide’s idea to have you live with us,” he tells him. “I thought he was being crazy, but he insisted. Said that we needed to help you.” He smiles back at Shiro, and the ghoul can’t comprehend the look in his face at all. “I’m glad he talked me into it. I’ll see you later, Shiro-san.”

“No.”

“No?”

Shiro curses inwardly as he looks away. Kaneki’s eyes drive him crazy, exactly the same but completely different, always in their calm shades of gray. Shiro’s fingers clench, throat working. He can imagine the confusion on Kaneki’s face, all the damned concern. He can imagine Nagachika being here, looking just as worried as he steps closer, reaching for eye contact.

_“What’s wrong, man? Do you wanna talk about it?”_

Yes.

_**No.** _

Fuck. Fuck, he just doesn’t… he doesn’t fit into this. He doesn’t get why they’re even trying, especially after what he’s done to them. Nagachika thought that they needed to help him? Bullshit, he’s far past that. They don’t owe _him_ anything.

He should just go. Before he snaps again.

“Shiro-san?” Kaneki has turned back around fully, staring inquisitively. Shiro avoids his gaze. “What do you mean by _no?_ ”

“I’m leaving,” Shiro answers bluntly. Doesn’t give himself a chance to think.

“Oh.”

Kaneki looks back at him for a moment. Something in his manner seems to resolve itself and he nods, dropping his bag to the floor and taking off his boots. He walks straight past Shiro, gesturing for the ghoul to follow.

“You’ll need to bundle up; the forecast says there’s going to be a big storm starting this afternoon. Could go on for days. We should have some things that’ll suit you just fine.”

“Right,” Shiro says slowly. This isn’t the response he was expecting. “Thank you.”

Kaneki nods again, opening the door into his and Nagachika’s bedroom. It’s Nagachika’s clothes that get handed over, mostly—heavy jeans, a couple of shirts, a pair of boots. Leaving the bedroom, Kaneki gives him a thick black coat, along with Nagachika’s yellow plaid scarf. There’s money in one pocket and a black handkerchief in the other. Shiro knows what it’s for.

After a moment, Kaneki takes off his gloves and hands them over. Shiro refuses at first, but the half-ghoul won’t take them back.

“You’ll need them more than me,” he points out. “I can just get another pair.”

“Alright,” Shiro mutters. He pulls the gloves on as Kaneki slips back into his boots and picks up the messenger bag once again. “You know, I thought you’d object more to this.”

“You’ve made up your mind, haven’t you?” Kaneki responds. He opens the front door and steps aside, allowing Shiro to pass through first. “I knew something had been bothering you lately, something other than Hide. It was this, wasn’t it? The least I can do is respect your decision. But…”

Shiro looks back as the half-ghoul’s voice trails off. He stiffens as Kaneki’s hands find his, and something is left in his palm. A key.

“If you ever come back,” Kaneki says. “Whether to visit, or stay… well, you’ll have a key. Consider the door open.”

He squeezes Shiro’s hands a little tighter, then seems to force himself to let go. Even takes a few steps away from him.

“I hope I get to see you again,” he murmurs, and smiles up at the ghoul. “Take care, Shiro-san.”

He’s gone before Shiro can truly realize it, disappearing down flights of stairs to take his train to Kamii. Shiro stands in the hallway a moment longer, staring at the locked door he has a key to. It’s eerily silent.

He turns his back and leaves.

\---

Tokyo is noisy as fuck. People, humans, ghouls, all chattering and thinking and bustling from here to there; cars and cabs and bicycles. Colors in wardrobes and vehicles paintjobs and advertisements over buildings and billboards. The smells are damn near overpowering, too. Exhaust and restaurants and _meat meat **meat** humans vulnerable **open for the taking.**_

There’s so much of it, of everything, and somehow Shiro had forgotten it all while he was cooped up in that apartment.

Well, he certainly remembers now. The press and overwhelming _presence_ of the crowd doesn’t really allow him to forget. At least the cold and promise of bad weather is keeping some of them indoors. Those who are outside have bundled themselves up—scarves around necks, gloves over hands. Shiro rubs absently at his own, Kaneki’s dark blue knits.

He wonders if they might have been a gift from Nagachika.

Humans and ghouls don’t seem quite so different each other, out here. Each face is red-nosed and red-cheeked, shivers up spines as the cold persistently seeps through coats and sweaters. In a crowd of this many, the scents all mix together, as if the boundary between the two species could be so messy.

Though with the existence of Kaneki, and himself, how could that boundary be anything i>but messy.

Shiro waits, surrounded by a throng of people _food **weak prey**_ watching for the change of sign that allows them to safely cross. He stands as close to the curb’s edge as possible, avoiding the larger portion of the crowd. It’s irritating, having to hear breath heaving through so many lungs, sensing RC-rich blood moving under skin.

The ghoul scowls as he catches himself licking his lips. Damn, it hasn’t even been that long since he last ate.

The sign changes, the lights too, and Shiro moves forward, barely a few steps ahead of the crowd gathered on the corner. He’s the first the meet those moving in from the other side, weaving through uneven rows of bodies. Once back on the sidewalk, he sweeps his eyes over his surroundings again—flashing ads and rolling vehicles and the masses of people that never seem to stop moving.

It’s confusing as hell to watch it all. Shiro isn’t sure why he keeps stopping to do it.

It doesn’t help that he has no idea where he’s going, or even where he might want to go. It’s just… away. Away from Nagachika and Kaneki, away from wherever it is their influence lies. He’s never really learned the extent of it. He probably should have.

A breeze is tickling down the back of his neck. Shiro frowns, pulling the yellow plaid scarf more snugly around his throat and popping up the collar of Kaneki’s heavy black coat. He catches a whiff of the half-ghoul’s cologne, a mild sort that he uses to cover his scent whenever he leaves the apartment. Nagachika’s scarf smells like him, too, warm and human. It isn’t as tantalizing as it probably should be; maybe because Shiro has gotten so used to being around him.

_**Used to a human** humans are food **consuming is the right of the strong.**_

Shiro flinches, his shoulders hunching as he picks up his pace. No, no, not here, not now. He’d gotten _out_ of that apartment so he wouldn’t have to deal with this. The city noise is supposed to drown it out, it’s supposed to be louder—

_You’ve gotten attached **turned soft** you should **break** break already **little bug—**_

Shit, shit, he can _> feel that heavy hand on his shoulder, some cheap imitation of… of what, he doesn’t know. Fatherliness or some other thing he doesn’t fucking know about. Shiro keeps walking, he has to keep walking._

_**Weak** weak **you’ll starve because you’re weak** you’ll be consumed because you’re—_

“Fuck off,” Shiro rasps. Several odd looks are sent his way. “Fuck off, this isn’t your body.”

The voices fall silent. For now. Really, it’s the worst part of being on his own, getting stuck with _this thing_ in his head. What if it started pushing him when Kaneki was around? Or Nagachika? What if it made him, just like last time…?

Shiro groans, a hand to his temple. Shit. He never asked to be a damned kakuja. He never asked to have them devour him from the inside every time he so much as closes his eyes. He never asked for anything.

Not even the things he _did_ want.

The ghoul keeps walking. His shoulders are still hunched, teeth grinding down on each other, but hey, not like it’s gonna cause any lasting damage.

The voices still haven’t come back and he allows himself to be grateful for that much, flanked by bodies on all sides. He feels completely exposed out here, but it’s only temporary. He’ll get underground as soon as possible, hole away in some nicely unoccupied sewer until he’s calmed down. Which could take a while.

A low _chuckle_ reverberates through his skull and Shiro snarls, picking up his pace again. As his stride lengthens the wind picks up, too, moving his hair in and out of his face. He notices several people looking up at the skies, growing suspicious of swollen gray clouds. Kaneki had said something about a storm… wait, no, he doesn’t want to think about Kaneki right now. He doesn’t want to think about either of them.

Though… the half-ghoul had seemed pretty sad back there, hadn’t he? There’s something sort of comforting about that. Really shouldn’t be, though.

Shiro shakes his head. He keeps walking, heading for the underground, shoulders hunched against the cold. His hair floats up with the length of his stride, teased by the wind. His hands are stuffed deep inside the coat’s pockets. The sight of Kaneki’s blue gloves is starting to bother him.

Honestly, it’s like everything bothers him these days.

\---

He’s got every intent of slipping down below, really, but there’s something sort of pleasant about being aboveground for once. Sure, it’s colder than anything and the wind keeps getting worse, but the air feels clearer and—though it’s noisy—the atmosphere has its own calming effect.

Come to think of it, Shiro’s never spent much time out on the streets. Before his encounter with Kaneki and Nagachika, he only ever left the underground to hunt, and that was always after dark. And before that…

The surface isn’t all that impressive, though. There may be towering buildings and throngs of people, but it’s still rather barren. The trees remind him of broken bones, twisting up into the sky, and the winds are always biting with cold. The ground is hard and icy.

His attitude changed some after learning about seasons, however, knowing now that this winter will eventually be giving way to spring. He wonders what it will be like. How different will the wind be? What sort of things will Kaneki and Nagachika be doing? Festivals, maybe?

He’s got to stop thinking about those two.

Shiro continues his walk through Tokyo, noting the passing hours in the steady darkening of the sky. Clouds continue to gather. At some point he realizes that he’s finally left the 20th Ward and the sky is near-black with the storm that hasn’t struck yet. The wind is miserable.

He hasn’t been aboveground for a storm before. He considers the experience, a strange sense of curiosity turning through his head. Of course, it wouldn’t be a good idea—his face is already red and raw from being out in the cold for so long already, buffeted by the wind hour after hour. Even with gloves, he keeps having to pull his hands out of the coat’s pockets to breathe on them, rubbing to restore circulation. At least his core is warm.

Rain begins to fall, and honestly, he had been expecting worse. People begin to open umbrellas. Shiro pulls up his coat’s hood and angles his head to watch the rain falling down towards him. It’s strange from this point of view, almost dizzying. But not too bad, even with the wind.

The rain then takes a violent change in temper. The sky opens, soaking Shiro and every other occupant of the streets, rain striking with the force of thrown rocks. It’s cold and clinging, into his hair and pores, ears and eyes and nose and mouth. Wind drives the cold in even deeper. Shiro’s range of vision drops dramatically and what the _fuck_ weather is terrifying. The wind is actually pushing him off-balance.

People are fleeing for cover, umbrellas blown inside-out, and Shiro stumbles toward the nearest awning he can see, though it barely does a damn thing to shield him. He shivers, pressed against the building as he bows his head and tries to get all this fucking water off his face. It keeps filling up his nose and mouth and shit, shit, it’s getting hard to breathe and is he freaking out now how can he be freaking out over weather that’s _pathetic **weak** acting like **prey—**_

He wants to go back to the apartment.

“Hey.”

The rain’s being blocked. Shiro squints up and immediately flinches back and he comes face-to-face with a ghoul. She smells familiar, somehow, though Shiro doesn’t recognize her. A little shorter than he is, sopping dark hair plastered to the sides of her face, with one hand in her raincoat’s pocket as the other keeps her hood up.

She meets Shiro’s stare for a moment before looking away, turning her face out toward the street to holler.

“Hinami! Found him!” She glances back his way, looking him over. “You are Shiro-san, right? Kaneki-san’s new roommate.”

Shiro blinks up at her without a word, brow furrowing. Somehow she takes this as an affirmative. But how can she know his name? The name Nagachika gave him…

A second ghoul runs up, lavender hood falling back in the process. Her hair is soaked through already, and Shiro can see one side has been shaved bare. Rubber boots with a floral pattern go up to her knees, almost, and she skids on the pavement as she stops next to her companion.

“Shiro-san!” the new ghoul exclaims, and her brow wrinkles with concern as she leans forward. “Are you alright?”

“…Fine.” No need for these strangers to know anything about his earlier panic. Shiro glares suspiciously at the other ghouls, bracing himself for a possible fight. “Who are you? What do you want?”

“I’m Kirishima Touka,” the first ghoul replies. She gestures to the one standing beside her. “They’re Fueguchi Hinami.”

Shiro frowns at Fueguchi. _They…?_

“Instead of she,” Fueguchi says, guessing his thought. “It’s they instead of she.” They smile in what Shiro supposes is a friendly sort of way, pulling their hood back up. “We’re friends of Kaneki-niichan and Nagachika-san. It’s nice to finally meet you, Shiro-san.”

They offer a hand. Shiro at least knows what this is for, and he shakes it reluctantly. The contact with Fueguchi is brief, but enough for him to recognize a ghoul’s strength in their hand—strength that could easily rival his own.

He watches Fueguchi more warily after that.

“Why are you here?” he demands of the two. “What do you want with me?”

“Kaneki-san asked us to look for you,” Kirishima answers. “He said you were leaving, but he was worried about how well you’d get by on your own. He’s got a duty to stay with his students, and since I’m the manager of Anteiku, it’s my job to see to it that 20th Ward ghouls are taken care of.”

“We’re not in the 20th Ward,” Shiro points out.

“Yeah, smartass, I noticed that about three kilometers back.” Kirishima glares. Shiro gets the feeling that she’s a dangerous ghoul as well. “I’m not too stoked either, you know, wandering through this shitty weather all day trying to find you. But Kaneki-san isn’t someone who can be turned down. His nobleness has a habit of rubbing off.”

“Not exactly a bad thing,” Fueguchi murmurs, smiling a little. There’s a knowing look to their eyes, glancing up at Kirishima while the other ghoul isn’t watching. “Anyway, we’re only going to get colder the longer we stand out here. Let’s go back to Anteiku; I’ll make the coffee this time.”

“There’s food, too, if you need it,” Kirishima adds. “You can stay there until the storm blows over.” When Shiro doesn’t say anything, the ghoul rolls her eyes, her impatience tangible. “Come on, man, it’s already after five. It’ll take us hours to get back to the shop on foot. Don’t tell you actually _like_ this abominable weather.”

“No,” Shiro mutters back sourly. 

He pushes away from the wall. Kirishima and Fueguchi are both weird, he’s decided. It’s similar to the weirdness Kaneki always carries around. These two are strong, sure, but not malicious. Apparently the half-ghoul’s bizarre trait is infectious.

He decides to go along with them. He tells himself it’s to get out of the rain. He tells himself it’s for the chance at food. He tells himself it definitely isn’t for the fact that they say Kaneki is worried about him, and he wants to know how the hell that could be possible.

Fueguchi leads the way and Kirishima walks next to him, her nose buried in a striped scarf. Shiro mirrors that by hiding behind Nagachika’s yellow plaid, though by now the scarf is sopping. Fueguchi doesn’t seem to have their eyes open at all, which leads Shiro to wonder exactly how they’re navigating the group so well, but as long as it’s working he has no complaints.

Aside from the damned storm, of course. Plenty of complaints for this weather. He should’ve gone underground when he still had the chance.

“So. Kaneki sent you to look for me,” Shiro says to Kirishima. _Instead of coming himself,_ he doesn’t say.

Kirishima nods. “Yeah.”

“Because he’s worried.”

“Yeah,” Kirishima says again, and looks over at him. Her gaze is sharp. “He worries about everyone, really, that’s just how Kaneki-san is. Does that bother you?”

It does. Shiro doesn’t say so, but again, Kirishima gets the answer anyway.

“Used to bother me, too,” she tells him. “I mean, the guy wasn’t even born a ghoul. Why should he care so much about what happens to us, huh? He’s not even _us_ at all. Right?”

She summons things up with frightening accuracy. Shiro hopes it isn’t a habit.

“I got over it,” Kirishima continues. “Kaneki-san’s not so much of a half-anything, really. He’s all human, all ghoul. He cares fully about both sides. Nagachika-san’s the same way.” She scoffs, though there’s a sort of fondness to it. “Either they’ll both get killed because of it someday, or… I don’t know. Something else.”

Shiro doesn’t have a response for her, so he keeps his mouth shut. She’d hardly hear him over the weather, anyway. The ghoul’s face is numb by now. His hands aren’t doing much better, feebly layered with Kaneki’s gloves. This is fucking miserable. Shiro definitely hates winter.

He can barely see Fueguchi’s back ahead of him—lavender coat, floral boots. Occasionally he hears them humming. Whenever he catches it, Shiro keeps thinking that the young ghoul’s scent is familiar, but… trying to remember brings him to an ugly place.

Very, very ugly.

_Caved-in walls lots of blood **even more fire** a figure striding through **slight and strong proud and terrible** carrying her quinque **a spine bending to her hand.**_

It’s mostly the quinque he remembers. And pink eyes. And his first fear of the Doves digging into his body. He doesn’t remember what happened to anyone else who was there. Least of all _him._

Shiro wonders who the quinque might’ve been to Fueguchi. He wonders if Fueguchi possesses the same power that quinque had. He really hopes they don’t.

The pedestrians are thinning out rapidly. Awnings have become crowded, and whatever people unable to stop are running to escape the rain as quick as they can. He can hear some humans calling cabs, ghouls splitting funds for train tickets. No one wants to deal with all the nastiness outside.

Fueguchi keeps up their pace, eyes still closed. The wind is getting steadily worse, making layers of sweaters and coats seem entirely useless. Somehow, while he and Kirishima are frequently pushed around by the wind, Fueguchi remains steady on their feet. Are they heavier? That would suggest a koukaku… though the quinque Shiro had encountered definitely wasn’t that.

“Oh, _finally!_ ”

Kirishima’s sudden holler is startling, and Shiro resents himself for flinching. He frowns over at the ghoul, squinting through sheets of rain, and he catches sight of her teeth flashing in the dark. She’s pleased.

“We turn on this street,” Kirishima explains, pointing past Fueguchi. They’re smiling, too. “We’re almost home.”

Shiro doesn’t know whether he should object to the word or not. Mostly, he just wants to get out of this disastrous shitstorm.

\---

Okay, he’ll admit it: he’s a bit confused by what Kirishima refers to as “home.” Shiro is expecting an apartment, something like what Kaneki and Nagachika have, but up a flight of stairs and through the only door is a coffee shop instead.

There are some tables neatly arranged with chairs set on top, a counter with stools from one end to the other, and a kitchen with strange and frankly ominous-looking equipment. Negating his uneasy feeling is the scent of coffee in the air, though it’s definitely been a while since anything was brewed today. It’s pleasant.

“You… live here?” Shiro questions. He starts to recognize the place a little, recalling pictures from Nagachika’s phone. So this is Anteiku.

“There are some apartments upstairs,” Fueguchi explains. They force the door shut without much effort, stepping aside so Kirishima can lock it again. “I live in one, Touka-neechan and Yoriko-chan are in another. We keep the third one open for whoever needs it.”

“Leave your coat by the door,” Kirishima tells him, doing the same with her own. Soon there are lavender, red, and black coats dripping down onto the wooden floor. “Leave your boots, too. Hinami, think we have anything that’ll fit this sad sack? Yoriko brought us some more clothes last week.”

“Hm, probably,” Fueguchi replies. “I’ll go check.”

The young ghoul leaves then, opening a door to the staircase up. Their wet socks slip several times on the wood paneling, and it’s with an embarrassed laugh that they move out of sight. Kirishima waits as Shiro struggles with Nagachika’s soggy boots.

“Damn, you look like a drowned dog,” she says bluntly. She almost sounds amused, though Shiro can’t say he really understands her humor. “Bulging eyes and everything.”

He frowns at her, peeling off the other boot and a sock with it. He gives up on retrieving that. Kirishima notes it, he thinks, going by the quirk of her lips. She turns and briskly waves at him to follow.

“Alright, Drowned Dog-san, let’s see what we can do for you.” She glances back just in time to see Shiro slip on one of the steps. “You gonna stay the night? Forecast says this storm will keep going for a few more days. You really don’t look like you can take much more of it.”

Shiro bristles, fingers curling until his hands are white-knuckled. “I was _handling_ it just _fine,_ ” he hisses. _Don’t call me weak **don’t you fucking dare** call me **w e a k.**_

Kirishima doesn’t say anything. Her lips press together, a tight line, eyes grave. Shiro wonders what she can see. He hesitates, staring back up at her, _challenging her,_ but Kirishima just turns back around and continues up the stairs.

After a moment, Shiro follows.

It isn’t much further up to the second floor, at least. There are several doors up here, though only two are swung open—an obvious trail of puddles leads into Fueguchi’s. Kirishima walks over to the other door and pokes her head in.

“Yoriko?” she calls, and Shiro’s brow furrows at the warmth in her tones. “You in here?”

“Studying!” a second voice calls back. Quite brightly, Shiro thinks. “You need anything?”

“Nah, just wanted you to know we’re back,” Kirishima replies. She’s leaning against the doorframe by now, comfortable as can be. Shiro is left standing awkwardly in the hall. “Shiro-san’s with me, he’ll be staying until the storm blows over.”

“Shiro-san?!”

The unseen woman’s voice pitches up in excitement, which places Shiro solidly between confused and alarmed. He braces himself for the appearance, coming mere seconds later, blonde and bright-eyed and tying her nightgown’s sash. And, bewilderingly, unmistakably, _human._

What. The fuck.

“Hello!” the human chirps, bustling forward. “I’m—” Her cheery demeanor immediately drops, beset with concern. “Are… are you okay? You look like you’ve nearly drowned!” Turning to Kirishima, she adds: “You _both_ look like you’ve nearly drowned! Is Hina-chan okay?”

“Hinami’s fine, Yoriko,” Kirishima assures her, smiling gently. Shiro never would have thought a ghoul’s eyes could be so soft. “We all are. Just needing a change of clothes, and Hinami’s already taking care of that.”

Shiro isn’t exactly sure why he nods. Maybe he needs to confirm what Kirishima is saying. Or something. He stiffens when the human turns back to him and offers a hand, just like Fueguchi had. Her friendliness hasn’t abated from the moment she popped into view.

“Kosaka Yoriko!” the human introduces herself. She sees the ghoul’s hesitation, yet he can’t tell that she’s bothered by it any. “Mmhmm, I’m human. It’s okay.” When Shiro finally accepts her handshake, she smiles warmly up at him, her eyes crinkling. “It’s so _nice_ to finally meet you, Shiro-san. Kaneki-san and Nagachika-san both talk about you so much.” 

“Really.”

“Oh yes!” Kosaka nods enthusiastically. She then leans a little to the side, watching something. “Ah, here comes Hina-chan.”

“Get back to studying, you,” Kirishima says, quietly butting in as she nudges the human’s side. “You’ve got a test to ace.”

Kosaka sighs loudly but doesn’t object, brushing her fingers over Kirishima’s as she walks away. Kirishima follows her in, closing the door behind them. Shiro is left standing out in the hallway, cold and wet and frowning.

“Found you some clothes,” Fueguchi announces as they walk up, a small stack in their hands. They’ve rolled up their sleeves to keep it from getting wet. “They’ll probably be a little big, though. You can change in that room down the hall.”

Shiro nods, accepting the clothing—pajamas, he thinks—and starts walking towards the indicated room.

“Meet back in my apartment for coffee, okay?” Fueguchi calls after him. “And bring your wet clothes with you.”

Shiro nods again. Fueguchi disappears into their apartment and Shiro leaves the hall. The room he steps into is small, a main area with a few cots, a table, a dresser. Once he turns on the light, he can see a closet as well. It certainly isn’t something meant to be a home, but it works very well as a shelter. Anteiku has been at this for a while.

Stripping out of the first set of borrowed clothes is a damned hassle. Everything is soaked clear through, clinging to his skin with irritating determination. Shiro curses plenty as he wrestles off one item after the next. Even the socks are difficult.

He leaves everything in a soppy pile on the floor, wrapped loosely in one of Nagachika’s shirts, and then goes about changing into the pajamas Fueguchi picked out for him. It’s a matched set, gray with green accents. Fueguchi was right about them being too big, but they’re comfortable enough.

His skin is still cold and clammy, hair dripping. Still, it’s a lot better than he felt a few minutes ago.

He hesitates now. It would be quiet here in the spare room, if it weren’t for the storm thrashing outside. The windowpane rattles from the force of it, water seeming to pour more than drip down its surface. It would be quiet here if it weren’t for that.

He hates the quiet.

\---

Fueguchi’s apartment is much more compact than Kaneki and Nagachika’s, or so Shiro assumes from the tiny kitchen and small living room. They don’t have a television, just a coffee table and a well-worn couch, some stools just like the ones downstairs. Something looking like a giant pillow is shoved into one corner. Nearly every space of the walls is taken up by paintings, while more are carefully propped up from the floor.

It’s obvious that Fueguchi painted these, he can smell the equipment tucked away somewhere, but at the same time it’s impossible to believe that a ghoul could create so much. So much that isn’t traumatic, anyway. It seems all of the atypical ghouls have been dumped here in the 20th Ward.

Shiro stirs as he hears Fueguchi approach, returning through their open front door. They had left just a moment ago to stuff their and Shiro’s clothes into a dryer—Kirishima must have been doing the same, since she follows the younger ghoul in.

Fueguchi gives him a gentle smile, they seem to do that every time he makes eye contact, and steps around him to go into their kitchen. The stove is already on, kettle waiting to steam, and they set cups on the counter before continuing to rummage around. The ghoul pauses every now and then to yawn, or to shake some water free of their hair.

Like Shiro, Fueguchi has changed out to pajamas for the night. Theirs come in bold checks of purple and yellow, unlike Shiro’s mellow gray and green. Kirishima’s just wearing striped pants and an oversized hoodie. She sits on the edge of the counter while Fueguchi bustles about.

“Have a look around,” Fueguchi says, seeming to notice that Shiro hasn’t moved since they and Kirishima had walked into the apartment.

Shiro nods, murmuring some type of assent or possibly agreement before he takes the next few steps into the living room. Each painting is carefully framed, smooth woods lined with silver or gold—it looks much more expensive than either Fueguchi or Kirishima seem able to afford. As for the paintings themselves, their look is just… messy. Watery, even. The colors spill out soft past the lines, even the blacks and grays gentled by their style.

Fueguchi’s paintings are of all manner of things. Streets and gardens, forests and oceans. There are portraits, too, and Shiro recognizes Kaneki and Nagachika inside a mixed gold and silver frame. Kirishima is depicted as well, in a picture with Kosaka and Fueguchi as well.

Seeing them up close, it’s even harder to believe that a ghoul has created all of these. They’re all so soft, colorful, gentle. Not anything a ghoul ought to be, but here it is. Shiro wants to touch them, as if that would make them more real somehow.

The portrait of Kaneki and Nagachika keeps drawing his gaze. They’re sitting together, hands entwined as they smile at the viewer. Kaneki’s eyes are soft, while Nagachika’s are scrunched up from the breadth of his grin. They’re having coffee at Anteiku, it looks like, steam clouding up on the canvas.

Shiro doesn’t touch. He just looks, thoughts drifting elsewhere. For once, the ghost of sensation over his skin doesn’t hark back to torn flesh and severed bones. It’s Kaneki’s soft fingers, Nagachika’s rough palms, their warm eyes and murmured comforts.

He wants to go back. Fuck, he really wants to. But he knows it’s a bad idea. It was a bad idea to go after them in the first place. He should have stayed underground, where no one knew he existed.

_**But you were afraid.** _

“They’re pretty good, right?”

Shiro flinches, glancing back to where Kirishima is still sitting on the countertop. Fueguchi is carefully pouring coffee out for all three of them. He can hear them humming again.

“Me and Tsukiyama keep telling them that they ought to open a gallery or something,” the older ghoul continues. She snorts. “Something we actually agree on. He’s the one providing all those fancy frames, by the way.”

“Mm.” Shiro looks back to the portrait. “They’re… very beautiful works, Fueguchi-san. You’re skilled.”

“Not especially,” Fueguchi replies modestly. They set the coffeepot back onto the stove, now off. “I’ve had to spend most of the past five years in hiding, so painting is how I fill my time. And reading, and makeup, and online classes. It all comes down to practice.”

“I see.” Shiro keeps looking at the portrait. He frowns. “I haven’t had much practice. Not with these sorts of things, anyway.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you’re a master of combat and dismemberment,” Kirishima says casually. Fueguchi gives her a shocked look. Shiro stiffens. The ghoul pays no mind to either of them, plucking her cup of coffee from Fueguchi’s hand before she carries on. “I’m not too bad at combat, myself. We should spar sometime.”

“I’d rather not.”

“Oh?”

He avoids looking at her. Looking at either of them. _She’s looking for trouble **she can have it, she can h—**_

“Shiro-san.”

Shiro flinches again, inhaling sharply. Fueguchi is standing near him now, offering him a cup of coffee. Shiro accepts it, sipping carefully as he avoids eye contact. Fueguchi’s coffee is richer than Kaneki’s.

“Is it good?” Fueguchi asks.

Shiro nods. They smile.

“So,” Kirishima speaks up again, “getting to the matter at hand…” She points at Shiro. “You’re trying to leave Kaneki-san and Nagachika-san. While I’m not going to stop you, I would definitely like to know your reasons. Maybe even put your mind at ease on some issues.”

“Such as.” Shiro adjusts his footing, keeping both ghouls in his sight.

“Kaneki-san knows you don’t trust him, first of all,” Kirishima says bluntly. “Nagachika-san knows it, too. They both understand, they’re not hurt by it, but they are worried you might hurt yourself because of it. That’s why Kaneki-san called me today. His partner probably would have too if he hadn’t landed his stupid ass in the hospital again.”

“We know you don’t trust us, either,” Fueguchi adds, without any note of bitterness. Their tone is almost soothing. “And we wouldn’t ask you to—we’re strangers, after all.”

“If there’s anything about us you _can_ count on, it’s our reputation,” Kirishima tells him. “Anteiku’s been in the 20th Ward for decades by now, and me and Hinami are both a part of maintaining its legacy—peace, and sanctuary for any ghoul who may come to us. Ask around, there are plenty who will vouch.”

“Mm…”

Shiro wishes she would stop talking already. Wishes they would all stop talking and drink their coffee and not acknowledge Kaneki or Nagachika at all. That would be nice. Well, not nice, but better. Better than talking.

Fueguchi gestures to their single couch, waiting for Shiro to sit down before settling on the other end. It has a musty sort of smell due to its age, but it’s not unpleasant. Before long, Kirishima moves in from the kitchen to sit on the coffee table, looking up at Shiro.

“So, why are you doing this?” she prompts. “In my own opinion, those two are probably the best possible people to have falling in love with you, and god, are they in love. It would be annoying if it wasn’t so endearing.”

“Even Uta-san thinks it’s sweet,” Fueguchi giggles. They stop, wincing. “Ah, sorry. We’re not giving you a chance to say anything, Shiro-san.”

He’d really prefer if they never gave him a chance. As is, Shiro’s left to stew in silence, struggling for a response. Reasons that Kirishima can’t take apart. “It’s not a matter of love,” he says finally. He’s staring down at his lap, finger running over the rim of his cup as he breathes slow, _stay calm stay calm._ “Love isn’t enough to settle it.”

“Not if it’s one-sided, no,” Kirishima concedes. But it’s only partial concession, if that. “So, since love isn’t enough to settle it, then what is “it”?”

Shiro’s lips press into a thin line. He looks away.

“I’m not going to change the subject for you, Shiro-san.”

“Why the hell do you even care?” Shiro snaps, teeth baring. Tension coils up his spine, seizing his shoulders. The cup trembles in his hands.

“Because Kaneki-san cares.”

“ _Tch._ ” Shiro’s scowl deepens, along with his own sense of unease. Fueguchi to the side, Kirishima in front… they could probably stop him running if they wanted to. He did get tracked down across multiple wards, after all.

He never should have allowed himself to be taken here.

“You won’t let yourself believe that,” Fueguchi realizes. Shiro’s teeth grind against each other; he can feel them watching him. “That Kaneki-niichan and Nagachika-san care about you. That they love you. You know that they do, but you refuse to believe in it.”

“Is that the “it”?” Kirishima wonders. She pauses, watching Shiro’s response. “No, it isn’t.”

He’s done here.

So fucking done.

The cup is shattered in Shiro’s fist as he surges up to his feet, flipping Kirishima and the coffee table backwards with his other hand. Fueguchi is knocked aside by a strike from his kagune, rolling to a halt right before they hit a stack of paintings.

“ _It_ is none of your damned business,” Shiro snarls. Coffee drips hot between his clenched fingers, spilling down onto broken glass. Kirishima’s kakugan have flared up in response to his own, and he stares her down. “Love, caring, leaving, _none of it is _any. Of your. **Fucking. Business!”**__

Kirishima’s kakugan bleed away. She stands up, keeps her distance. She’s calm. She looks sad, and for some reason that terrifies him. He watches as the ghoul opens her mouth, breathing in, and she utters one word.

“Yamori.”

Shiro’s breath freezes. He knows his kagune is withering but he can’t feel it, can’t feel anything aside from the tremors in his body and the screaming through his head _she knows **she knows his weakness** he has to run **run?!** run run run_

do something, but he’s fucking frozen. Frozen and forced to listen. “Yaku Oomori. Jason. You were his personal toy for about two years.”

Kirishima frowns, obviously uncomfortable to be talking about this, but she isn’t the one remembering the grin, _**roaring laughter** his entire body torn apart **again and again** when will it stop when will he be satisfied what is 1000 minus 7?_

“My brother’s been in Aogiri for… some time. He found out you’ve been with Kaneki-san and Nagachika-san a few weeks ago, and he told me about your past in Aogiri.”

Shiro’s legs turn weak. He slowly falls back into the couch. He’s shaking so badly, worse than after the nightmares. He can’t believe he’s hearing this. A stranger knows. There are strangers who _know._

Kirishima’s scent had seemed familiar.

“How much did he tell you?”

“Everything he knows,” Kirishima replies. “Which would be everything there is to know, as far as you and Aogiri go.”

“You didn’t tell me your brother’s been contacting you,” Fueguchi murmurs. They’re back on their feet now, carefully checking that none of the paintings have been damaged. Watching Shiro from the corner of their eyes.

“Because it’s suspicious as hell and I don’t know what he’s up to yet,” Kirishima tells her. “It’s been going on for a few months now. At least he isn’t trying to kill me every time we see each other.”

“At least,” Fueguchi echoes, though they sound doubtful.

The ghoul cautiously make their way back into the living room, righting the coffee table. Kirishima steps back to allow them room, helping flip it back over. Shiro stays on the couch, shaken and struggling to breathe.

Someone _knows._

“Wait,” Shiro says, then stops. He chews his lip, staring intently at Kirishima as he thinks that this can’t be so, it can’t be, but he’s been wrong so many times today… “You say you know everything, but you still came for me when Kaneki asked.”

“Of course,” Kirishima replies. Not a moment of hesitation. “That’s what Anteiku is for.”

“But…”

“Shiro-san.” Kirishima’s voice is firm, her gaze steady. “You are not the only murderer in this room. That Aogiri did horrible things to you, and made you do horrible things—that is no issue to me. You’ve got no desire to do them anymore, do you?”

Shiro shakes his head. He doesn’t trust himself to speak anymore, didn’t really trust himself to begin with, and he stares at the floor until he feels his nails breaking through his palms. For once the smell of blood is real and not just in his head.

“That’s enough for me,” Kirishima decides. “As long as you’re in the 20th Ward, Anteiku will do its best to see to your wellbeing.”

She’s crazy. The 20th Ward is filled with crazy humans and crazy ghouls and crazy things that aren’t properly either. Crazy.

Fueguchi sits down next to him again. Ducks a little and leans closer so they meet his eyes.

“Shiro-san,” they start, carefully. “I can’t say I know what you’ve been through. I don’t know what Touka-neechan’s brother told her, I don’t know what you’re thinking of all this right now. But I do know one thing for certain.”

Their voice softens, but the sincerity in their eyes is strong.

“What Aogiri did to you in the past doesn’t make you less of a person now. It doesn’t make you less deserving of happiness than others.”

Shiro looks away from them, staring vacantly toward the paintings. “Happiness won’t solve anything.”

“No, but guess what?” Kirishima steps in close, the first that she has since Shiro shoved her away, and the ghoul has no time to react before she grabs his jaw and makes him stare directly into her eyes, just as strong as Fueguchi’s and twice as fiery. “ _You fucking deserve to be happy._ ”

Shiro is crying.

He can’t figure out the how or the why of this, his mind is a mess and his face is dripping and now, oh god, he’s making these horrible sobbing noises and it’s _dangerous to be this loud **dangerous** he’s so **so afraid** he wants to go home **he doesn’t get to have one of those** fucked up **he’s too fucked up…**_

He’s saying all of this out loud, maybe. Maybe he isn’t.

Nothing makes sense anymore.

Shiro is crying.

\---

It’s been a long night. The _worst_ weather, crying, a lot more talking than Shiro has ever done in his life and now he can’t even remember most of what was said. Was there actually anything said at all? All he knows is that he’s cold and soaked again, exhausted to the core, but somehow in less distress than he had 

been before.

He’s standing outside the apartment building—Kaneki and Nagachika’s apartment building. Their home. He doesn’t know if coming back will fix anything, fix him or them or any problems in the world. But he’s willing to try. Fueguchi and Kirishima both insist that counts for something.

Shiro feels he may be more than half drowned again by this point. Kirishima, standing next to him under the awning, doesn’t look any better. At least the wind has died down, even if the rain is just as heavy.

“Maybe you should’ve just stayed the night,” Kirishima remarks, quirking an eyebrow. It’s the first she’s spoken since they left Anteiku.

Shiro shakes his head. “I would have lost my resolve,” he answers.

Kirishima nods. She looks up, perhaps able to see the couple’s balcony through the rain. Shiro can’t quite tell which one it is, yet.

“Say, Shiro-san.”

“Mm?”

“I’m glad you’ve decided to give these two idiots a chance.” Kirishima smiles at him fondly, but somehow she’s still quite serious. “Just remember that it takes time, okay? A whole fucking lot of it. That’s just how it is for folks like us. It’s a lot harder to believe you can be loved when you’ve done… more than just a few terrible things.”

She drifts into silence, staring out at the rain. Shiro studies her face, puzzling over her serenity. Whatever she had done, whichever lives she had taken… she had made peace with her past, however awful it may have been.

He envies her. He wonders if, perhaps, he could be the same way.

“You know, I look back and I still can’t figure out how I even learned to trust people,” Kirishima tells him. She’s still watching the rain, the occasional vehicle sending puddles spraying. “One day I realized that somehow I had friends, and we’d become willing to follow each other into hell. I realized that I had a girlfriend, a _human_ girlfriend, who knew exactly what I am and loved me all the same. I couldn’t come to terms with it back then. I still have trouble with it now. I’m sure you know, the past is a difficult thing to get away from.”

“It helps that he’s dead,” Shiro mutters, fingers fidgeting in his pockets.

Kirishima laughs quietly at that, nodding. Her lips purse thoughtfully, eyes turning back out to the storm again.

“Shiro-san…”

“Kirishima-san.”

“It really is gonna be a lot of work,” she tells him. He’s coming to appreciate her bluntness. “Years and years, probably. You’ll have to fight against everything you believe about yourself, about the world around you. That’s the kind of effect those two have. But…” She smiles. “It’ll be worth it. I can promise you that.”

She’s about to leave. Shiro finds himself straightening up a little, offering a hand as Fueguchi had done for him some hours before. Kirishima has a steady hold, just as he expected.

“Thank you,” Shiro says.

“No trouble,” Kirishima replies, though it was definitely a lot of trouble. “Come by Anteiku again sometime, yeah? We can chat. And Hinami will be wanting their boots back.”

“Of course.”

“See you,” Kirishima says, stepping away. “Take care, Shiro-san.”

“You as well,” Shiro calls back.

Kirishima is swallowed back up by the storm. Shiro gets in through the apartment building’s front door and promptly slips on the floor, cracking a tile with his chin. He’s sure Kirishima would’ve gotten a laugh out of that, if she had seen it. The ghoul sighs and minds his step after that.

He trudges up the levels. The apartments are all quiet, much quieter than he usually hears when he’s moving through the stairwell. Almost everyone living here is asleep by now; Kirishima had said it was after midnight when they left Anteiku. Shiro tries to be quiet, too.

He’s glad now for the key Kaneki had given him that morning. It feels less of a burden now, sitting in his palm, and more of a… a faith? Hope? Kaneki had seemed to think that Shiro would return. Maybe he’d understood something Shiro hadn’t. Most people seem to understand things that Shiro doesn’t.

The ghoul unlocks the apartment door, opening and closing it as quietly as possible. He turns the key to lock it again and sets it on the small shelf Nagachika and Kaneki usually leave these sort of trinkets on—keys or sunglasses, the occasional note.

The once-again sopping clothes are a damn struggle to get out of. Especially while trying to stay quiet. In the fucking dark. The groaning hinges of the laundry room’s door are no help at all. Shiro leaves the wet clothes there and changes into dry pajamas, folded and stacked on the coffee table. The futon has been unfolded for him already, set with clean blankets and pillows.

Kaneki hadn’t doubted for a second. Shiro wonders if he ought to be disturbed by just how predictably this had played out, or touched by the half-ghoul’s confidence.

Mostly, he’s just tired.

Shiro sits on the edge of the futon for a while, blinks down at the barely visible floor as his hair slowly drips. Yawns wide, blinks some more. He pulls back the blankets and is about to lie down, resigning himself to sleep, but he’s interrupted by the sound of conversation in Kaneki and Nagachika’s room.

It’s surprising to hear them up this late. Shiro can’t tell what they’re saying, it’s nothing more than murmurs, but it only lasts a few seconds. He stays sitting on the futon a while longer, waiting, and some moments later the bedroom door opens and Nagachika slowly trudges down the hall, making his way into the kitchen.

The human curses under his breath, fumbling until his hand hits a light switch and nearly blinds them both. Shiro cringes away, ducking his head as his vision bursts with white spots. When he can actually see again, he squints back up to watch Nagachika’s progress. He seems to feel his way along the counter before stopping to reach up into one of the cabinets.

Nagachika isn’t wearing a shirt, and Shiro can see the damage. Bandages and bruising are all starkly evident under the kitchen’s lights, and his movements are stiff and slow. Even his breathing is labored, quiet as it reaches Shiro’s ears.

It’s only in light of these new injuries that Shiro begins to notice the scars from the old ones. He knows that Kaneki told him already, but this is far from the first time that Nagachika’s been hurt. Shiro feels angry with himself for never seeing it.

He gets up from the futon and walks into the kitchen. Nagachika doesn’t seem to have noticed him, setting a small box on the counter before reaching up into a different cabinet for a glass. Shiro isn’t sure what to say, to catch his attention. It’s got to be something.

“You’re not usually up this late.”

“AH!!”

Nagachika’s yell is jarringly loud, and he jumps away from Shiro before clapping a hand over his mouth. Shiro reacts just quickly enough to catch his dropped glass, a few centimeters off the floor. He straightens up as Nagachika turns around with widened eyes, releasing a shaky sigh.

He’s standing rather close, Shiro notes.

“Jeez, man,” Nagachika breathes, shoulders sagging as he leans back against the counter. “You scared me.”

“Sorry.” Shiro looks Nagachika over again, cautiously. As if looking at the damage will somehow make it worse. Sure feels like it does. The ghoul takes a step back, brows low with concern. “How… how are you feeling?”

“Sore as hell, actually,” Nagachika grunts. His voice is tighter than usual. “Came back here for painkillers.” The human then takes his glass from Shiro’s hand and shuffles over to the sink, filling it up with water before swallowing down multiple pills.

“Painkillers?” Shiro hadn’t really wanted to ask, but he’s never going to learn things if he doesn’t get in the habit. Besides, he doesn’t want Nagachika to leave just yet.

“It’s a drug for dealing with pain,” the human explains. He tucks the packet of pills back into its box before turning away from Shiro, putting it back into the cabinet. “Headaches, cramps, swelling, allergies, aching joints—body trauma in general, I guess.”

As he goes on, Shiro’s concern only increases. How many of those had he just swallowed, five? Yes, it had been five. Was Nagachika in that much pain? Even with time to recover, he still had to wake in the middle of the night to take this many painkillers? How was he moving on his own? Why was Kaneki _letting_ him? Is this a human thing??

Nagachika doesn’t seem to notice Shiro’s change in mood at first, putting his focus into placing his empty glass in the sink. When he finally does glance over, he seems startled by the ghoul’s concern.

“Hey, hey, don’t worry about me,” he soothes, wincing as he turns to face him. “I mean, I’m cranky and sore, but I’m not dead.”

The words feel like a fist, driving through Shiro’s stomach. Nagachika could be dead, Nagachika could be _dead_ and Shiro wouldn’t have been there to do anything about it. Nagachika dead _**devoured bloody** alone in the dark **broken body empty eyes.**_

He’s seen it before, he’s done it before, he can’t look away from Nagachika’s warm brown eyes as he thinks, _dreads,_ what they would look like without that warmth, if they were gone, _gone, some sick monster’s fucking **treat—**_

His fists are held tight at his sides. Otherwise they would be shaking.

“Don’t say things like that,” he murmurs, barely keeping his voice steady. “Please.” The fear still churns in his chest, violently. “ _Never_ say anything like that.”

“I’m sorry.” Nagachika’s whisper cracks, and Shiro can see him swallow. His apology is sincere, and the ghoul already sees his own concern being reciprocated. Nagachika does that a lot. “I’m sorry, Shiro-san.”

He’s worried. Nagachika is hurt and healing and he could have _fucking died,_ but here he is, _worrying_ about Shiro. He doesn’t know if he’s grateful or angry or wants to sit on the floor and cry about it. He doesn’t fucking know.

So he turns away, sharply, shoulders hunching as he tries to keep composure. It doesn’t have to be long, just… enough to finish this day. Enough to get back to the futon, go to sleep, and survive some more nightmares. Maybe Nagachika will wake him up early again. Maybe.

Nagachika follows him over to the futon, and he curses silently. The human watches him as he sits on the futon’s edge, stiff and straight. He seems to be considering something.

Please go away.

“Mind if I join you?”

Shiro blinks for a second, stunned that for once, Nagachika hasn’t caught the hint to leave. Probably a result of his injuries.

“It’s your futon,” he finally says.

Nagachika doesn’t move, looking at him expectantly. Shiro frowns at that, gesturing to a space next to him—not too close, mind. He’s still not entirely sure how he feels about anyone here.

Nagachika lowers himself onto the edge of the futon slowly, and Shiro can see the care with which he’s setting himself down. He’s holding his breath, too. Shiro’s jaw clenches as he thinks about pain again, those five pills. Why is the human deliberately putting himself through this?

Once settled, Nagachika turns his head to meet Shiro’s stare. He doesn’t say anything. His gaze has a somewhat flustering effect.

“Well?” he asks.

Nagachika nods to the scarf and coat hanging on the rack by the hallway. “You find a good place to wait out the storm?” he asks. The rain seems to increase its volume then, as if to comment. “Or at least, the worst of it. That wind was a nightmare, huh?”

“I found a place,” Shiro replies, a little quieter than he intends to. He wonders what Kaneki told the human, whether he mentioned the key or the call to Anteiku.

“Thanks, by the way.”

He gives Nagachika a confused look, because how else is he supposed to react to sudden gratitude? It’s not like he’s done anything to get it. Pretty much the exact opposite, actually. Still, Nagachika’s smiling at him, and now he scoots a little closer.

Shiro should probably object to the new proximity, but he doesn’t really want to. In fact, he’s just a tiny bit glad for it.

“For letting me and Kaneki have some private time,” the human continues, explaining once again. He spends a lot of time doing that for Shiro, where does he get all that patience? “We really appreciate it. Though…” Shiro’s eyes follow the tilting motion of Nagachika’s head, and from the lights of the kitchen he can see the thoughtful look in his eyes. “Pretty obvious that you needed some personal time, too. Got a lot on your mind lately?”

Is winter fucking cold. No, no, that’s rude. He can’t be rude to a human held together by soft flesh and strips of cloth.

“Yes,” he replies. He doesn’t exactly mean to sigh. Tired…

“Did it help to get out of the apartment for the day?” Nagachika asks. He should be resting, not questioning Shiro, dammit. “Less weighing on you?”

“Yes. And no.” Shiro frowns at the contradiction. “It’s… complicated. A lot of things are, it seems,” he muses. At least, wherever feelings were involved.

“Yeah, that’s life for you.” Nagachika sighs loudly, which strikes Shiro as a bit odd. The human swings his legs over the edge of the futon before stopping suddenly with a soft hiss. “But sometimes it’s all just really, really simple. So simple you miss it.”

Shiro knows he’s being scrutinized. Nagachika’s done it to him often enough, and it’s always alarmed him, just how perceptive the human is. He’d be a terrifyingly adept ghoul.

Nagachika nods, that thoughtful look back again. “You look better,” he tells the ghoul. That comes as a surprise. “Feeling that way, too?”

“I suppose,” Shiro mutters. He shakes his head, frowns again as he curls his fingers into the blankets. “It is… hard to tell.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

Short answer to that. “No.”

“Okay,” Nagachika replies. Shiro can see his smile again, gentle and sincere. So much sincerity wrapped up in a single human being. “Well, whenever you feel ready, I’m here to listen. Kaneki is, too. Just let us know.”

Shiro’s mouth opens, the words _you don’t know anything_ are on his tongue, but he stops himself. He stops himself, and though he still can’t feel any sort of belief in the human’s words, he will still respond. Properly.

“Thank you,” he manages, voice tight.

He turns his face away, curling in on himself. So tired, so fucking tired, every part of himself keeps getting challenged and it’s exhausting. Kirishima had told him to expect years of this. Not much of a thing to look forward to.

Nagachika’s hand touches his shoulder, gentle as possible, and really, Shiro doesn’t mean to flinch under it. But he does, and the hand withdraws.

“I would like to be alone now, Nagachika,” Shiro says softly. He should’ve known better than to talk to him. He’s too exhausted to think straight, his head’s too full of junk to sort through. He still isn’t looking up at the human.

Nagachika murmurs a low affirmative, and gets back up to his feet. There’s no groan when he moves, and Shiro knows he’s got to be gritting his teeth. Next is silence. He can feel the human’s gaze.

“Get some rest, Shiro-san,” Nagachika tells him. He doesn’t sound upset, not even a little. Just tired. “I’ll see you later in the morning.”

“See you,” Shiro echoes, and he thinks on that.

He keeps thinking on that as Nagachika’s steps gradually fade, stopping a moment in the kitchen to turn the lights off. The human continues on, going back to his bedroom and Kaneki. There are more obvious groans as he pulls himself back up onto the bed, a murmur or two between him and Kaneki, and then silence again.

Shiro is still thinking. He dares to part his lips and murmur something for himself.

“See you later.”

It’s comforting. Foreign, something he’s not sure he really believes in, but it’s comforting. That has to be a good thing, right?

He feels like it could be.

\---

It isn’t until he opens his eyes again that Shiro realizes he slept without dreaming. Again, Nagachika isn’t here to wake him at five o’clock prompt, and as Shiro blinks awake he can see the clock turning towards eight. The sounds of Kaneki and Nagachika stirring reach him from the bedroom, and a few minutes later they both emerge.

Kaneki looks as groggy as always, but in a better mood about it. He’s carrying his partner on his back, seeming to pay no mind to Nagachika’s loud groans in his ear. Shiro stays sitting on the futon, blankets over his folded legs as he watches the two. It’s the first time he’s seen them together without some event to be rushing for.

Nagachika seems to peel off Kaneki’s back, dropping onto a stool and planting his elbows on the counter. His palms become a prop for his drooping face.

“ _Painkilleeeeeeeeerrrrrrrrsssssssssssss,_ ” is the human’s plea.

“Food,” Kaneki answers bluntly, without pity. He responds to his boyfriend’s whining with several slow blinks. “Don’t argue with me, Hide, you need food and hydration before putting more drugs into your system. How many did you take last night?”

“Enough?”

“Hide.”

Nagachika groans again. “Five…”

Kaneki raps a knuckle against the top of his head, prompting an even louder and longer whine from the human. It seems to have become his preferred method of communication. Kaneki only shakes his head in response, and Shiro manages to catch the half-ghoul’s smile as he turns away.

He watches them for a while longer, listens to their gentle bickering. He sees the third cup set out for him without asking. He watches, listens, thinks. He can’t say that he’s sure, or that he ever will be sure. He can’t say that he trusts them yet. But… this is certainly the closest he’s ever been.

Still without a word, the ghoul leaves the futon and pads into the kitchen. Kaneki is at the stove and Nagachika is still on his stool, so Shiro hops up on the small counter between the two.

“That’s not a chair, Shiro-san,” Kaneki reprimands lightly. Shiro can tell that he isn’t really bothered, however.

Nagachika manages a smile for him, through grogginess and who knows how much pain. Shiro can’t tell if his cheery demeanor is making it better or worse. The human doesn’t say anything to him, however, knowing before anyone else that Shiro wants to speak.

Not that he knows what to say.

“When I left yesterday,” he starts, reluctantly. “I didn’t intend to come back. I wanted to, honestly, but I didn’t intend to.”

Nagachika’s gaze is steady. Unsurprised, unhurt. “What changed your mind?”

“Kaneki sent Anteiku after me,” Shiro answers. Nagachika quirks an eyebrow at his partner, though Kaneki says nothing. “Kirishima-san and Fueguchi-san. I met Kosaka-san, as well. That’s where I was through the storm. We… we talked. There was a lot of talking. It was uncomfortable.”

Nagachika laughs softly at that, but not at Shiro’s expense. There’s a sympathetic look in Kaneki’s eye as he glances back to him, before turning his focus back to the eggs he’s scrambling over the stove. Shiro can smell meats.

“I had a lot of reasons for leaving. At least, that’s what I thought.” Shiro hesitates, not willing to go on and explain what all those reasons had been. “They managed to prove me wrong about all of them, and next thing I knew, I’d been talked into coming back.”

“Ha, well,” Nagachika says, “Hinami-chan’s a force of reason, and Touka-chan’s a force of nature. You’d have to be a whole new breed of stubborn to not get your mind changed by those two.”

“Kirishima-san…” He trails off, struggling for words again. He’s got to do this right. “She’s like me. That is, she’s killed too, _murdered,_ she… actually told me about that. She really isn’t afraid of her past, is she?”

“Not anymore,” Kaneki murmurs.

“I’ve done horrible things, too,” Shiro admits. It’s uncomfortable and terrifying, the feeling of these words in his mouth. “Horrible is… it’s the only thing I’ve ever learned, the only thing I’ve known how to give and take. But the two of you, you give something entirely different, and it scares the shit out of me.”

Breathing isn’t usually this difficult. Shiro stares down at the floor as he chews on his lip. Nagachika is holding his hand now, thumb stroking in silent encouragement.

“It’s scary because I shouldn’t be getting it,” he continues. “Not at all. But you two think otherwise, for some reason I don’t get. Kirishima-san and Fueguchi-san spent hours last night telling me that I deserve to be happy, but that… isn’t something I can just _believe._ I’m not one for believing.”

He hears Kaneki turn off the stove, moving the eggs aside before coming closer to Shiro and Nagachika both. Nagachika keeps hold of his hand, eyes fixed on Shiro’s face. He has their undivided attention now, and for once it isn’t completely unnerving. Just mostly.

“I don’t believe in this, either,” he confesses. “I don’t know if I _can._ Kirishima-san says that’s to be expected. It takes a lot of work, a lot of trying…”

“Shiro-san.” Nagachika has the ghoul’s hand cocooned in both of his now. Shiro stares at them, tracing the shape of the bandages. “Do you want to try?”

He feels small. He feels huge. Shiro straightens, meets Kaneki’s gaze, looks Nagachika in the eye.

“Yes.”

“Oh man.” Nagachika’s smile is bright and wide and there are tears gathering in his eyes. He laughs. “This is the best thing I've heard all week.”

“Thank you,” Kaneki says. Shiro looks over his shoulder as he speaks, and he doesn’t think he’s ever seen the half-ghoul looking quite this happy. It’s a stunning change from yesterday. “Thank you for giving us a chance, Shiro-san.”

“Giving _you_ …?”

He doesn’t finish the sentence. He sort of wants to kiss the pair of them. But Shiro settles for what he has, letting his head bow again as his hands are held by a half-ghoul and human who, for some weird reason, are really fucking attached to him. He’s smiling.

Shiro is smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'all probably noticed, but the -san honorific is now on shiro's name whenever he's addressed by kaneki or hide. previous chapters have been updated on this.
> 
> ALSO, november is nanowrimo, which i am doing, so there will not be any new chapters until mid-december or so. since i'm finishing the drafts for this fic and starting another over the course of the event, updates should become a little more consistent until httys wraps up.
> 
> *knocks on wood*


	4. Suteki

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter: shiro’s interest is less in the lesson and more in the teacher.
> 
> Timeline: early feb ‘15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first off, shoutout to wikku for all their help in my kanji questions!! i know my questions don't always make a whole lot of sense. u the best.
> 
> well, my lovelies, here's some kanekane gayness for you.
> 
> chapter warning for hearing voices, character being triggered.

It’s raining today. Not nearly as bad as the storms last month, thankfully, but it’s still enough to earn Shiro’s apprehensive attention. It’s good to be indoors, warm, burrowed under blankets on the futon he was too lazy to fold up in the morning. Kaneki is sitting on the opposite end of the futon, book in hand. Sundays are like this.

Nagachika was called away for work again. Kaneki tells him that will be happening more often once spring arrives. Shiro doesn’t like that fact.

He also doesn’t like his daily hour of struggling with kanji. The shit’s infuriating.

“Alright…” Kaneki’s nails, painted silver and blue today, skim over the paper’s surface. Shiro’s been watching his reading glasses edge slowly toward the end of his nose. “Can you tell me which ones these are?”

Shiro squints, rolling his tongue over his teeth as he thinks. His brain feels so sluggish when it comes to this stuff. “Uh… _moto_ and… _kanhata?_ ”

“Very close, Shiro-san, but this one—” A dark blue nail taps the second kanji. “—is actually _kataki._ Meaning rival, opponent, enemy, and so on. _Moto_ is correct, however! Usually you get it mixed up with _hana._ ”

Shiro sighs, his lip curling irritably. The ghoul lets his face drop into the futon’s cushion. It’s an hour of this—sometimes two— _every day,_ with either Kaneki or Fueguchi, and Shiro is pretty damn sure he’s going to lose his mind.

“Why make your kanji so fucking hard to learn, huh?” he grumbles, face still buried in the cushion. He’s tugged the blankets up over his head, a rebellious lump of ghoul. No more kanji today. He’s not gonna do it. “Is reading _really_ this necessary?”

“Yes, Shiro-san, it is,” Kaneki replies patiently. He’s always patient. Annoyingly so.

Shiro doesn’t lift his head, but he does lift his middle finger. Kaneki makes a faintly amused sound, patting the heap of blankets. Somewhere around the ghoul’s shoulder. He keeps his touch light, however, cautious of Shiro’s boundaries, and the ghoul finds himself caught between irritation and appreciation. Again. Emotions are weird.

“I know you’re frustrated, Shiro-san, but you are making progress,” Kaneki assures him. “There’s just a lot for you to learn, is all.”

“No shit,” Shiro grunts. He pulls the blankets back some, angling his head a bit to glare up at Kaneki.

“Hm.” Kaneki leans back on his hands, giving the other ghoul what seems to be a disapproving look. “I hope you haven’t been giving Hinami-chan this much trouble.”

“Fueguchi-san can take it,” Shiro mutters back. He avoids Kaneki’s frown. “Not… not that I’ve been giving it to them.”

“Oh?” The half-ghoul raises his eyebrows, chin tipping. “So it’s just me, then.”

Shiro props himself up on his forearms, shrugging. “Essentially,” he confirms.

“Well, that’s a bit rude,” Kaneki remarks.

“Your kanji are a bit fucking rude,” Shiro retorts.

Kaneki flashes him a grin, eyes crinkling. He sits up straight to close the book in his lap, looking back over at Shiro. The ghoul maintains his frown.

“No,” Kaneki says slowly, feigning thoughtfulness. “I’d say you’re definitely the fucking rude one around here. Hide’s rather proud of you for usurping his title.”

It’s believable. Nagachika is proud of the strangest things. Shiro scoffs a little, turning his face away from Kaneki for a moment.

“If you say so,” he mutters.

“I do say so.”

They look at each other, Kaneki smirking, Shiro frowning, both with an amused lift to their brows. The ghoul finds himself distracted, following the curve of Kaneki’s soft pink lips, the line of his jaw. His eyes trace over gently rounded features, the small number of freckles dotting his cheeks and nose, two steady gray eyes.

Kaneki’s looks are like poetry, Shiro thinks. A beautiful damn mystery.

“Like what you see?” Kaneki asks softly.

“Mm.” Shiro nods. “Does that make me vain?”

Kaneki chuckles softly, tipping until he lays flat on his back. Shiro has to twist around a bit to keep watching him. The half-ghoul hums thoughtfully as he looks up at the ceiling.

“I think that makes us both a little vain,” he murmurs.

By now, Shiro can recognize that look in his eye, the one that says he wants to act but he won’t, not unless Shiro is comfortable with it. Shiro considers that for a little while, the both of them sprawled out on the unfolded futon, comfortably silent.

The ghoul rolls up onto his forearms, looking down at Kaneki. “Is it okay if I…?”

Kaneki’s smile spreads easily across his face, his eyes soft with affection. It makes Shiro’s stomach flutter. It makes his own lips curl up in response, just a bit. After Kaneki nods his consent, Shiro angles his head down for a kiss. It’s pretty clumsy at first, with Shiro it usually is, but they’ll have time to relax.

It’s quiet in the apartment, two ghouls curling in towards each other with eyes closed, breathing together. Shiro’s eyes open briefly as he feels Kaneki’s hand drift up his face, and he lets the other ghoul gently guide his head to a more comfortable position. Kaneki’s hold is loose. He still takes care to keep Shiro at ease.

The half-ghoul hums up into Shiro’s mouth. He senses that Kaneki has a thought, and pulls back, looking down at him curiously. It takes another moment for Kaneki to open his own eyes, hazy gray, and he smiles again.

“You know, Shiro-san,” he says, thumb stroking the ghoul’s cheek. “You’re becoming quite gentle these days.” He looks so happy as he says it. So proud. “It’s nice.”

“Hm.” Shiro lets his head sag down onto the half-ghoul’s chest, enjoying the feel of soft wool. A pink sweater, gifted by Kosaka. It belongs to Nagachika. Shiro rolls his gaze up to meet Kaneki’s. “Didn’t think I could be.”

“Well, you are,” Kaneki tells him. His hand runs soothingly up and down Shiro’s back. Still light. “You’re wonderful, Shiro-san. So very, very wonderful.”

Shiro wonders if there’s a kanji for that. Not enough that he’ll ask right now, though. Kaneki is warm, and for the moment, life is calm. Pleasant. He’s still getting used to that, reminding himself that it isn’t something to fear. Sometimes he believes it.

This time he does.

“Do you want to do more?” Kaneki asks. His hand has stopped moving, settling below Shiro’s shoulders.

“More what?”

“More kissing, more kanji,” Kaneki gestures vaguely with his free hand. “Whichever you prefer.”

“No kanji,” Shiro answers adamantly, and accidentally knocks their foreheads together before he settles into kissing again.

He’s gotten out from underneath the blankets by now. Kaneki is giggling, grinning under Shiro’s lips. It’s a rather Nagachika thing to do, the ghoul thinks, but he isn’t really surprised to see the two reflecting each other’s traits.

Kaneki runs his fingers through Shiro’s hair, which prompts him to remember one of the half-ghoul’s preferences. He sits up, carefully tugging at the front of Kaneki’s sweater so he’ll follow, and ends up straddling his lap. They begin kissing again. It’s not so quiet this time, mouths open to each other, bodies closer.

Shiro runs his fingers up the back of Kaneki’s neck, sliding into his silky black hair and curling into a loose fist. Kaneki hums his approval, rocking towards him, and Shiro’s breath stutters, heat coiling deep in his gut. Kaneki immediately stops, pulling back from Shiro to get eye contact. He looks worried.

“Are you okay?” he asks. “I, I forgot to ask before I started moving, I’m so sorry—”

“Stop,” Shiro cuts him off. He glances away, biting his tongue as he thinks. Eventually he brings his eyes back to the other ghoul. “You can do it again. But it has to be more slowly.”

Kaneki’s eyes widen in surprise. There’s some relief and excitement in there as well, Shiro thinks. He’s definitely better at reading this than reading kanji.

“Alright,” Kaneki says quietly. “I’m going to have my hand just below your kakuhou, I will be pushing you a bit. Is that okay?”

Shiro nods. Only now does Kaneki move, setting his hand along the small of Shiro’s back. Kaneki slowly rolls his hips up, pushing down at Shiro’s back, and Shiro shivers at the feeling it gives. One of his hands is still knotted in Kaneki’s hair. The other is gripping his sleeve.

“Good?” Kaneki asks. He’s watching Shiro closely.

“Uh.” Shiro doesn’t meet his eyes. “Weird.”

Kaneki nods understanding. Because of course he understands.

“Try spreading your legs a bit more,” he suggests. “You might like it better that way.” He removes his hand from Shiro’s back, placing it down on the futon. “Or, we can stop right now, which is perfectly fine. It’s up to you.”

Shiro doesn’t know. This is weird to him, but… he doesn’t know. He can’t tell if he likes this or not. It’s foreign. It could be good _or_ bad. The question is whether he wants to find out yet.

“I’ll try the legs thing,” he decides. His reluctance is more audible than he’d like. “Just that.”

“Are you sure?” Kaneki questions. His concern is painfully obvious. “You don’t look at all comfortable with this.”

“Of course I’m not comfortable, I have no idea what to expect!” Shiro snaps. He scowls, leaning away from the half-ghoul. “I hate new things, Kaneki. Why do you think I despise kanji so much?” Kaneki doesn’t say anything, and Shiro sighs. “I want to at least try. It’s better than not knowing at all.”

“Mmm.” Kaneki frowns a little, thinking it over. “Since that’s how you feel… then that is what I’m here for.” He lets his hand rest on Shiro’s knee. The ghoul is surprised by how calming the touch is. “Tell me whenever you’re ready. You can change your mind at any time.”

Shiro nods. It scares him, sometimes, that Kaneki is so willing to leave all the decisions in his hands, but he knows it’s so he can feel safer. In control. It feels better to have things in his control, if a bit nerve-wracking. He can do this. He knows he can.

Shiro follows Kaneki’s earlier suggestion, adjusting his position atop the half-ghoul. Kaneki watches him and waits, guiding the ghoul’s placement when asked. He feels strange, almost exposed. He doesn’t know what’s going to happen.

“Breathe,” Kaneki murmurs.

Shiro does. He uncurls his fingers from Kaneki’s sleeves, lays them out flat. “Okay,” he says, jerking his head in a nod. “I’m ready, but… just once.”

Kaneki gives his agreement, and his hand settles below the ghoul’s kakuhou once more. This time his thumb follows the curve of Shiro’s hip, taking a firmer hold. Kaneki grinds up into his body, slow and hard, and… and… _shit._ Shiro can’t restrain his loud gasp, or the shock on his face, because this is _certainly_ not something he’s used to feeling.

Kaneki stops moving. Just once, as decided. Shiro is completely rigid.

“Shiro-san?” Kaneki’s brow is creased. “Talk to me, please. How are you feeling?”

“Uh.” Shiro stares at him blankly. “Um. Again?” He nods rapidly. “Again.”

Kaneki gives him a surprised look, and then the smile appears. “You like it,” he realizes, beaming at Shiro with delight.

“Yes.” Shiro surprises himself with how quickly he replies. “I do. So, could you please…?”

Kaneki’s fingers dig in again, and his hips roll at the same slow, burning rate. Shiro dives for Kaneki’s mouth, their teeth hitting as he pushes his tongue past soft lips, consumes wildly tantalizing taste and scent. Damn, if this ghoul isn’t delicious. It’s almost unfair. Shiro’s teeth catch on Kaneki’s lip, shuddering as the man rocks up into him again. His breathing comes so much faster now. His body feels too hot, exposed and raw but not exposed enough.

He breaks off from openmouthed kisses to biting marks into Kaneki’s neck. Both his hands fist the front of the other ghoul’s sweater, tugging. He’s bringing up all these weird feelings now, new and exhilarating, and damn, he wants more. New is good today. New is _fucking great._

“You want this off?” Kaneki asks, his voice an unsteady whisper as he pulls at his own sweater.

Shiro growls an affirmative, prying himself away. Kaneki quickly pulls off his shirt and Shiro does the same, then for a moment neither of them does anything. Shiro looks at Kaneki. Smaller, more slender, soft skin over hard muscle and bone. Completely in control. Shiro feels like Kaneki always know what he’s doing.

“I can’t believe I made such a fuss over this,” the ghoul breathes.

“It wasn’t a fuss,” Kaneki answers. Sort of a rebuke, Shiro thinks, but a gentle one. “You were uncertain. There’s nothing wrong with that.” He smiles fondly, reaching out his hand. “You ready to come back over here yet?”

He doesn’t have to ask twice. Shiro brings himself back into Kaneki’s lap, shivering a little as Kaneki’s cool fingers settle along the small of his back. His other hand is planted in the futon cushion, keeping them both upright. Shiro runs his hands up the half-ghoul’s arms, feeling over tense muscles. A slight smile is spreading over both their faces. Kaneki seems especially delighted.

He moves up into Shiro, and they’re kissing again, initial sweetness slipping into a gleeful sort of aggression. Gripping harder, pushing deeper, pulses thrumming against the other’s chest. Kaneki’s nails dig into Shiro’s back, dragging him down onto his body. Shiro scores marks across Kaneki’s shoulders. He thinks of biting his neck, but the half-ghoul’s mouth is too delicious to ignore—especially with all the noises he’s making, slight vibrations with each one.

There’s no more talking now, not much thought. Gasps are taken into each other, nails scraping, toes curling. His throat strains for air. Shiro’s chest is heaving, sweat trickling between folds of his skin, his vision distorted by the activation of his kakugan, and he feels _incredible._ He’s finally going to do it, he’s finally going to get what he wants from this.

_**It feels so** good it’s good so very very good **he’s fucking disgusting** exposed **pathetic—**_

“Shiro-san? Shiro-san?!”

He’s frozen. The voices are gone now but he’s still frozen, staring at nothing, eyes stretched wide. Kaneki is holding his shoulders. Very gently, very loosely. He doesn’t shake him. Shiro feels tears, hot, bitter, dripping off his chin.

“Shiro-san,” Kaneki says his name again, slowly. “Can you hear me?”

He nods. So he can move, after all.

“Voices again?”

Another nod.

“Do you want me to hold you?”

He shakes his head, looking away. Kaneki squeezes his shoulders briefly before letting go.

“Alright,” he says softly. “Now, can you move off my lap? I promise, I’ll be right back.”

Moving is difficult, but Shiro does it, crawling away from Kaneki to curl in on himself at the other end of the futon. Kaneki stands up, pulling his sweater back on and passing Shiro his shirt. He folds the futon, seeming to sense that Shiro feels safer when his back isn’t exposed. After that point, Shiro doesn’t watch him, hugging his knees with his shirt hanging from a clenched fist.

He feels so pathetic for panicking like this. He’s faced so much worse than kisses with a ghoul, but _this_ is what fucks him up. It’s humiliating.

He hears the slight buzz of the TV turning on, a DVD going into the player.

“Shiro-san.” Kaneki speaks from nearby. “Is it alright if I come closer for a moment? I have something for you.”

Shiro looks up from between his knees, just slightly. Kaneki is standing a few feet away, Hide’s green throw held folded between his hands. Shiro loves that throw, not that he’s ever said so. It’s so soft, and very cozy. He feels like he’s back in a cocoon when he wraps up in it.

“I know you like this, so I thought it might help you feel better,” Kaneki tells him. “And Hide tells me that you’ve been enjoying the Harry Potter movies lately.”

“I’ve only seen the first one,” Shiro mutters. He lets go of his shirt and cautiously reaches out for the throw, shaking out its folds and wrapping it around his shoulders. “Four times.”

“Well, are you up for a fifth?” After Shiro nods, Kaneki stands up. “Do you want me to make some coffee for you? Get a snack?”

Shiro shakes his head.

“Do you want me to stay here with you, or leave?”

Shiro doesn’t know. He shrinks a little more, head ducking under the throw. Kaneki crouches back down, waiting. He’s always waiting. They’re _both_ always waiting.

“Stupid,” he mumbles. Kaneki doesn’t say anything, and Shiro curls in even tighter. His throat feels dry and thick. “I’m stupid, scaring over things that aren’t… aren’t even _real,_ fuck. You don’t have to be so nice to me when this happens, it’s my own fault. Not even real.”

“You’re not stupid, Shiro-san,” Kaneki murmurs back. He sounds like he’s in pain, almost. Shiro can’t bear the thought of looking into his eyes. “You’re wonderful. There is no shame in experiencing triggers. They are very real things. What happened to you is not your fault at all.”

“How can you believe any of that?”

“Like I said,” Kaneki replies. “You’re wonderful. You’re important to me. I know that you’re struggling, and I will do everything I can to help you.”

“Fuck.”

Kaneki laughs softly. Shiro hears him stand back up. “I’ll start the movie up for you,” he says. “Would you like me to stay or go, Shiro-san?”

“Stay.”

“Alright.”

The music starts and Shiro peeks out from the throw, watching by-now familiar scenes. Harry is his favorite, though he quite likes McGonagall as well. She reminds him of Kirishima. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Kaneki sit on the other end of the folded futon, opening up the kanji book again. He seems to be looking for something.

Shiro pokes a hand out from under the throw, scratching at the sheets. It gets Kaneki’s attention.

“Sit closer,” Shiro mutters.

Kaneki’s eyes soften. He closes the book around one of his fingers and scoots closer, as close as Shiro wants him, which is right alongside. It feels a little better, being able to lean against him. Kaneki smells sweet. The throw feels soft. The movie Shiro likes best is playing. It’s better.

Kaneki tugs at the pile of blankets Shiro abandoned, pulling one over his legs. “Do you want any more?”

“No.”

Kaneki nods, settling back so Shiro can lean against him again. He opens his book back up, eyes drifting between the screen and the page. Shiro’s eyes drift between the screen and Kaneki. He can feel his heart steady down from its earlier hammering. He’s safe now. He’s safe.

Just like he deserves to be.

“You’ll make it through this, Shiro-san,” Kaneki assures him, quietly. “It may take a while, but I promise you, this will pass. You’re strong. You…”

It takes Shiro a moment to realize that Kaneki is pointing down at the open book. His finger indicates a pair of kanji. Shiro makes a disgusted noise.

“I refuse.”

Kaneki laughs again, jostling Shiro a bit. “This is _suteki._ It means lovely, great, and, most importantly… wonderful.” He smiles over at Shiro. “Just like you.”

Shiro’s stomach twists, but it isn’t with fear. He takes another look at the kanji, numbering the lines, figuring out the shape. _Suteki._ He turns a bit, daring to kiss Kaneki’s cheek, and to his relief nothing bad comes of it. He settles back down to watch the movie, silently reciting the lines with the characters.

Kaneki stays with him the whole time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super True Science Fact: shiro and how much he is loved is someday going to be the death of me. i have no complaints.
> 
> Fun Additonal Scene: kaneki telling shiro that there’s also katakana and hiragana. shiro immediately locks himself in the bathroom for the rest of the day.


End file.
